I will just leave a quote here today. You can ponder it awhile until tomorrow morning when I will relate it to to my here and now.
Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. They are with you though, they belong not to you. You may house their bodies, but not their souls. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might, that His arrows might go swift and far. Let your bending in the archers hand be for gladness; for even as He loves the arrow that flies; so He loves also the bow that is stable.
A friend sent it to me earlier today. Gibran has always been an inspiration to me. Enjoy! Until tomorrow, which is actually today. I must go to sleep.
confabulate: to converse informally; chat.