How much do I think about praying?

How much do I think about praying and meditating?

This morning - everything was quiet.  I thought - if I can get up now, I could meditate quietly.  This morning I bet even the dogs won't bother me. 

But I lingered, and it wasn't long before my six year old - a little Steve McQueen in the making - not sure if he'll win the Nobel Peace Prize or that one for scientists - - but he trundles in to the bed in all his tow head summer crew cut glory, and burrows into my shoulder.   The sun is giving him little freckles on his nose.  When he wakes up the first thing he wants is mango sherbert.  He goes and makes himself a bowl, then proceeds to begin to challenge, and ignore.  "Put on your shoes"  I must have said that 20 times this morning.  

Here's the deal.  When we get on the wrong track - we get SOOOO on the wrong track.  When we are on the riight track we are good.  Is it me, is it him, is it the mango sherbert, is it the rowdy kid that started at camp this week?  My favorite explanations are that it's the rowdy kid and the sherbert.  Ironically the things I can do the least about (yes, I know, I can stop him from buying sherbert in the first place - and I go back and forth on what sugar it's okay to have sometimes in moderation at home.)  

But is it me?  I don't like that idea.  Though this morning, as I dropped him off, and was happy for the reprieve - I thought that I might have been able to make things more fun this morning. 

It's hard to make things fun when you are worried about getting yourself dressed - not having enough work - having too much work.  

But that is what iI would like to do.   Okay - meditate, and make things fun - one day at a time.  I'm going to try.