Hubby had surgery on his knee on Friday, so we’re in the recuperation fog right now. I find myself in the role of nurse/caregiver and after only two days, I want to say to all of you who do this a) for a living and b) full time for a loved one: YOU ARE AMAZING. I’m tired, worn-out and feeling my selfishness rear its ugly head more often than not. So, I smile thinking of all the people with compassionate bedside manner who lovingly care for strangers and family and do it willingly and joyfully. I am not that person, and that is okay.
Thankfully, we have family to help us, which also makes me smile because without them the children would pretty much have no attention given to them whatsoever.
Other smile-worthy moments this week:
- One morning we tackled some cleaning/packing projects around the house in advance of the company and the surgery. We cranked some folk/soul music, rocking out to needtobreathe, Lost Dogs and Paul Simon. I was terribly giggly as I grooved to Simon while cleaning up the kids’ room as my husband talked with a Jehovah’s Witness on our porch. Not sure what they think of dancing, but then again, I don’t really care.
- Ice cream. It’s been a while since we kept any in the house but Friday night, I decided we needed it after a long morning at the hospital and the utter exhaustion we felt.
- Cheap cheese. (I promise they won’t all be food related.) The local grocery store had a sale on shredded cheese, a luxury item in our house right now, so I took advantage and stocked up. Hey, it’s the little things.
- It’s also the big things, like receiving more unexpected money, generously given out of love and appreciation. And following up on an unadvertised potential job opening that would suit my husband. And feeling included by a church community we haven’t even joined yet.
- Seeing my hometown host a massive concert event and hearing about all the fun people seemed to be having. I love my hometown a lot. And if other people come to love it, too, then that makes me happy.
Maybe there was more, but that’s what my brain can recall right now.
Happy, smilin’ week!
Our kids’ first tractor-pulled ride to the pumpkin patch to pick out their own pumpkins. Corban is a little concerned here because the tractor, which he couldn’t wait for, was a little noisier than he thought and the ride was bumpy. Isabelle is already plotting her strategy, I think. Pumpkin picking is serious business.
“Oh, it’s a baby one. I have to watch over it.” She found this pumpkin seconds after we got off the trailer. And we had to gently persuade her to pick out another, bigger, pumpkin. She’s turning into quite the little mommy. We also picked out a family of gourds to help her watch over this little one. We probably could have walked away from the pumpkin patch with $5 worth of tiny gourds, but Phil and I insisted on at least one big, orange pumpkin. Creative persuasion for the sake of tradition, if you will.
