...and it's only Wednesday. But things are looking up. We've just had a lot of vomit and diarrhea around here. That's all. And those two visitors are never really welcome, but they're especially unwelcome on the heels of a week like last week (which was laden with fevers and fits and ER visits.)
But you know, as hard as it is to care for a sick child, I've felt something intangible about me this week that's been remarkably sustaining. And
I think, I know it's proportionally related to the amount of praying I've been doing. I've had all sorts of tiny, revelatory moments during the past eight days that have reminded my heart of important things it needed to remember. Case in point: I'm not usually inclined to think, in the middle of a midnight vomit session, "I'm so glad I get to be this child's mother. I'm so thankful I'm the one who can comfort him all night tonight and all day tomorrow." My thoughts are usually more akin to, "It smells like a sewer in here. Who was the dim-wit mother who brought her sick child to the nursery?" (I know. I'm not proud.) I think perhaps the pregnancy is at play somewhere in all of it; the heightened spiritual awareness coming from the fact that creating life is a close partnership with God. And as much as it makes my airway constrict to think about forthcoming decades of cleaning up after "didn't quite make it" incidents and scouring WebMD in the wee hours to rule out Crohn's disease and appendicitis, it is also sort of breathtaking to imagine that there are decades' worth of insight, compassion, patience, empathy and unquantifiable love yet to absorb because I'm the one they call "mama."
There are also tangible things that help mellow the crazy of a week like this -- like peaches going on sale for .99/lb. Peaches that are actually sweet. And juicy. And perfect stirred into my morning bowl of vanilla yogurt with a few Grape Nuts (for crunch.)
And surprise packages from friends. And a closet full of painfully adorable little girl clothes from a baby shower that couldn't have been more lovely, thrown by friends who could not be more genuine and dear, where we ate mapley, pecan-topped sticky buns that could not have been more diabolical (nutritionally speaking.) Or more delicious (sensorally speaking.)
And this guy. (Also delicious, no matter which way you are speaking.)
Who took me to this place a couple of weekends ago.
And (wishfully thinking) of the possibility of another date night with him this weekend.
Oh, and peanut butter toast with a sliced banana. (Tangible.) And always helpful. With everything.