or maybe a better subtitle might be that I've joined the I Love Lucy show and nobody told me.
I'm just gonna lay it all out right here. My frustration meter is FULL. (which is silly because honestly, there's nothing catastrophically wrong. Just a little dose of reality.)
We'll start the program with a look back at last Saturday. Valentine's Day. Anniversary Day. All was going well. We went to lunch instead of dinner because I don't like crowds and I don't like to wait. I want my food and I want it now. (in the most godly, Christlike way possible, of course.) We had a lovely lunch, with lovely conversation, and lovely gifts and we were all lovely. Then we went home. And all was well. Til I decided to walk down the steps. Which is something that I do with some regularity since it is a two story house.
However, this particular day, I decided to be graceful.
Down I went. (when up on the rooftop I heard such a clatter, I sprang to my window to see what was the matter.) Except at our house it was five dogs coming to see what thundering herd might have flung itself down the steps.
Much pandemonium ensued.
After the dust had cleared (and Josh had picked my not so petite self up from the floor...remind me to tell you about that sometime), I found myself on the couch with a sprained ankle on the right side and an extremely sore (yet lovely) left side. Thus ended all weekend plans.
On Monday, after hobbling around work all day, I returned home to find a boy with a 102 degree temp.
Much rejoicing ensued.
Much Lysoling ensued. Tuesday morning found us doing acrobatic schedule juggling to get the boy to the doctor. Josh was due in Lexington and I was due at work. Fortunately, we have grandparents living nearby and the boy's grandmother was quite delighted to be able to spend some quality time with him. After much Lysoling, of course.
The diagnosis...strep. with an ear infection thrown in for some variety.
I must say that I was somewhat relieved with the strep diagnosis. I was concerned that he might have the flu and I figure that it's easier to catch the flu than strep. If this is incorrect, please leave me to wallow in my ignorance.
Here's the deal. Bible study night is Tuesday. Last Tuesday we were finishing up the "I'm not contagious, I don't know how you got the stomach flu" so I missed bible study. The week before was national "You must have a migraine and not be able to take your medicine til you turn green" day so I missed bible study. So, I really didn't want to miss bible study. But, my child is sick. "Running a fever, miserable, I want someone to sit with me and I pick you" sick. I am his mother. (and buddy let me tell you, nothing is bigger than mother guilt. ask Jonathan about the Porsche we promised him when he was three months old. On second thought, don't ask him. I don't think he remembers.) So...I stayed home. And sat with him in his room for several hours, rubbing his back, fixing the heating pad, bringing him koolaid and talking with him. Doing whatever it is that mothers do. (and hopefully not getting strep.) Because it was the right thing to do.
But I was frustrated.
Not just because I wanted to go to bible study.
But because I knew that some others would say that I made the wrong choice. That I should have gone. That I'd made a commitment.
And it aggravates me that I'm letting them frustrate me.
Because soon (sooner than I think), my babies will be gone. And I don't want them to think that activities were more important than they are.
And sometimes...a boy just needs his mom.
*Josh and I've been married 22 years. 21 years ago, I asked him to carry me up a hill. He turned to me and said, "you're not exactly petite." Of course, he tried to tell me that the definition of petite is short and at 5'10" I was too tall to be carried up the hill. Right. In 21 years, I have not forgotten. Nor will I forget for another 21 years.