I have been meaning to say thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this. Most of my entries are on the fly and unedited. I think better when I write things down. Talking and writing help me clarify my beliefs and to process my experiences. And yet too often I elevate writing to a place where I get stuck in my perfectionism, but blogging’s another story.
Sorry everyone for being so whiney and pathetic. Insomnia sucks but, as my wise brother-in-law, David, said just the other day “If everyone is still alive, there is always something worse.”
The Bean got her shot and was very brave.
“This will hurt for just a little bit,” the nurse said, “it’s OK to cry or even shout but you can’t move or it will hurt a lot.”
I appreciated her honesty. Eden didn’t even flinch although her little tears wet my shirt where her face was pressed against my chest. I have had a headache all day and didn’t get enough rest. My nose is still running and yet, when my kids need me, it is so easy to forget myself. Although I wouldn’t have chosen this interlude today, and it certainly took away from things I needed to do, it enhanced the day too. These people call out such tenderness from me. I can be thankful for these opportunities to be with them, Eden in her fear and courage and the older two in their gentleness and sweetness to her.
I am weary, filled with love and thankful.
*LATE EDITION *
Three wondrous things that Christopher said this week:
1. “Mom, thank you for teaching me to talk and read.” (Tuesday, while sitting in the gazebo doing math.)
2. “Thanks for homeschooling me, Mom.” (Thursday, while walking to put away a book.)
3. “My mother, who works so hard for me and does so many things that I forget to thank her for, and to whom I promise to do whatever chores need to be done and I won’t even whine.”
(Thursday afternoon while sitting at the island reading his MUSE magazine. He was answering the question in a money quiz: “If I were designing a new dollar bill and could put a portrait on it, I would choose…
a. My dog.
b. My hamster.
c. My mother, who works so hard…
e. Oh, all RIGHT. My Mother.
He had circled “d”, only to erase it and circle “c”, he later erased that and finally settled on “a”, which I can’t dispute.)