Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

Staycation

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The first couple of days home the major task on our agenda was taking our medicine and trying to keep ahead of the pain. That’s decreasing and our number one activity now is changing our bandages twice a day. Since Paul’s entire forearm is a mess and Eden and I have two wounds a piece, it’s quite the production.  Eden is a child and I’m squeamish, so it’s entirely Paul’s show.

Ever since I looked in the mirror at the hospital and instantly burst into tears, I’ve averted my gaze. I don’t like any gore, and certainly not a mess of it on my face. Eden’s being a little toughie and other than being a little bored, she’s cheerful and in good spirits.
I’m sad our vacation was co-opted. It’s no fun being tired and in pain and missing out on all the fun things we were going to do. I’m still incredibly thankful to be alive: it’s not either/or; it’s a both/and.
I’m thankful for several refunds on hotels, tickets and programs. One, the largest—hundreds and hundreds of dollars—we didn’t even have to ask about, they just quietly credited our account.
I’m thankful for arnica. My eyes seem to be settling into a sallow yellow. They still may turn into black and blue, perhaps green, but today they’re a light mustard and I’m grateful for that.
And I’m so thankful for family and friends. This accident is a small thing. I’m not minimizing it, I just believe we’re going to recover soon, and it’s not going to dominate our lives once the bandages are removed. We may have some scarring, but we won’t be scarred, if that makes sense. And yet, in the short term at least, it’s a very big thing and the kindness of people who care about us has helped so much.

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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.

I started Older Than Jesus to get into the habit of writing every day and to stay in touch with old friends.  Along the way I have made some new ones.
This is me very gratefully thanking you all.

http://alisonhodgson.com/2008/04/477/

Happy Wednesday

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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.”

My kids are healthy and well – loud like a stick in my ear drum – and just fine.  I don’t want to take that for granted.
Today I am going to be thankful for Christopher’s passion, for Lydia’s sensitivity and for Eden’s fierceness.  I am going to be thankful for the essence of who they are, the unique way God created each one and I’m going to trust that He has given me what it takes to raise and guide all of them.

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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.

http://alisonhodgson.com/2007/09/647/

Three Things Thursday

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*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…
d. Me.
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.)