Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Really Good

I was at the farm with a friend and our kids last week.  I asked her how she was doing and she said, "Actually, really good."  I felt the same...the past few weeks have been wonderful.  By the grace of God, I've felt on top of the laundry and cleaning and homeschooling and running and teaching and I've enjoyed it.

I find it odd that we often don't tell others when things are going really well?
We usually come up with something that is happening, maybe to relate to the other person or perhaps just in fear of making the other person feel bad?

After a blissful day, full of friends and laughter, my baby woke up with croup.  
I've never experience croup, but I immediately wanted to call all my momma friends who've gone through it to apologize for not being more sympathetic. 
 It stinks
And is flat out scary.
 I could hear him trying to breath from across the house.  He was working hard to get oxygen in and couldn't even babble or cry.  I tried all home remedies and made several phone calls to my nurse-sister.  I did everything I could to make it through the night, so I didn't have to wake up my other 2 sleeping kids.  But the second they woke up, we were in the car on the way to the hospital.
When we walked in I didn't have to say who we were there for or why...a nurse walking by stopped in her tracks, looked at Charlie and told us to follow her back.
She must be a mommy too.
In ER, waiting for meds to kick in
They gave him some oral steroids, a breathing treatment and took x-rays.  But as we waited for the meds to kick in, I realized that I had all my kids in the ER!  What was I thinking?!
Oh that's right, I didn't want to inconvenience anyone early in the morning.
 I wanted to have it all together and take care of everything by myself.

But I needed help.
I called the only contact in my phone who I knew could get on base and would have room in their car for my kids.  It was humbling making that phone call.
My friend was quick to come get my kids and took great care of them all day.

Finally resting after 12 hours of labored breathing

By the time we were all home, it was late afternoon.  Charlie needed fluids and we all needed dinner, so we headed to the grocery store.  I was feeling so guilty for what I had put the kids through that day, I let them buy whatever treat they wanted.

Clean eating out the door.

When I finally curled into bed that night there was nothing 'really good' about life.
There was vomit in my shower.  Did I forget to mention that part of the night involved vomit?
Towels were still sitting in the washer...wet.
Caprisun wrappers were strewn all over the living room and
My kids hadn't had a bath in 4 days!

Being a mom is hard.
But for some reason, we don't talk about it or want anyone to acknowledge it.
We are the ones who are up all night with little ones, who brush their teeth and make sure they have clothes to wear.  We are the ones who worry about them from the second they are created.
Don't get me wrong, daddies are fabulous.
But for some reason, the really hard things come when daddies are away from home.

None of us have it all together.  None of us are perfect.  None of our kids are perfect.
There are times that are wonderful and there are times that are flat out horrible.
It left me wondering why we don't share these things with one another.

For me, I think it's because of grace.
I don't give myself the grace to enjoy the 'really good'
 I'm always adding to the to-do list or comparing myself to another momma who is doing way more exciting things with her life.
I don't give myself the grace to sit in the 'not good at all'
I try to mask it or run from it.
I don't extend grace to other
  I'm quick to judge when someone shares the really good with me and brush it off as they're bragging.
I'm often not willing to accept grace from others
 I don't want inconvenience them or take up their time when it's likely I won't be able to pay them back.

The house is cleaned up and Charlie is almost better.  But it took me 2 days to share with my neighbors the events of the weekend.  Looks like I'm still working on those lessons of grace.

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