A daughter called the other day feeling frustrated and frazzled. The little grandkids were at it again--destroying any possible dings of clean and order my dear daughter had worked on that Saturday morning. As my daughter expressed her frustrations, I immediately jumped into "solving" mode. Perhaps she could install child locks on a few doors, place excess toys out of prying little hands and keep important things out of harm's way. I started to offer suggestions, and then stopped myself. Instead, I listened and expressed sympathy. I told my daughter I understood her feelings--I had been a mom to toddlers once upon a time. I told her I could give her a lot of advice--which she may or may not use. Instead, I told her the best counsel I could give would be to study the situation out in her mind, turn the matter over to Heavenly Father and listen. I shared my experience of being at the end of my rope back in the day, praying, and pleading for help. My home was in a state of