Requested.

I'm in a hushed moment of thanksgiving and awe.

The day didn't start out so well, it's been chaotic from the get-go. I've been patient, worked through several frustrating moments, and re-aligned myself with the status quo of Friday morning.

Yet, when Keller repeatedly, delicately challenged me multiple times over the same 'hands off' item, then flew into a toddler-sized outburst of rage at my solid stance, it sufficiently topped off my 'take-it-in-stride' bucket and poured over into Momma Overload.

With one swift, determined movement on my part, I swept the lad up, and marched him into another room. Against the grain of his protest, I changed his pants (for lack of anything more constructive to do), and redirected his attention to another form of entertainment.

Returning to my previous task, wondering how long the distraction would last, I hoped for the best. I only needed 20 minutes.

Just 20.

No more.

That's when Keller ran up to me excitedly, signing "Help! Help!"

"Alright," I thought to myself. "I'll help him . . ."

He toddled into the next room and pointed at the empty felt board. A carryover from playtime with Keeton yesterday, it had not been put away when the day was done.

I was stunned.

"You want to play with your felts?" I asked, almost incredulously.

It was obvious.

I dashed down the hall to the storage area, scooped up the felts, and handed them to the young man.

As I type, Keller St John is happily talking to himself and moving felts around the felt board, fully engaged in the activity.

I have a feeling the chaos of the day is far from over.

At the very least, I have a happy memory: the knowledge that my efforts are not in vain.