Monday, May 14, 2012

I couldn't not post about this weekend.  I hope you all had fabulous Mother's Days, filled with fun and appreciation and gifts and love.  As you may have heard, my Mother's Day went a little less wonderfully than expected.  I suppose there are just certain times when God throws a curve ball at you to make sure you stop and take notice of the small things that are truly important.  And, let me tell you, there is nothing that will make you stop faster in your tracks than vomit.

Ugh.  Yes, this Mother's Day weekend, instead of receiving the usual cards and flowers, my daughter caught a horrible stomach flu and passed it on (every-so-generously) to me and her baby sister.  The Pardy girls were DOWN for the count to say the least.  Don't worry, I'll leave out the gory details.  I'm a recovering Emetophobic (fear of vomiting) myself, and if there is anything that can cure you quicker than lightning...it's having a toddler.

We've had the stomach flu three times in the last six months.  Now, I don't know about you, but to me that is a LOT of vomit.  I mean, just too many germs to even fathom.  And it's not like we're out at the clubs every night licking hand rails or picking gum up off the street.  We are NORMAL people who have NORMAL friends.  Where are these germs coming from?  Are we manifesting them ourselves?  Are toddlers simply a breeding ground for new super-germs to test out their limits on?  Ugh!  It makes me want to hook up to a Clorox IV, drink Listerine straight from the bottle and bathe in a tub of Purell!  Okay, maybe not...but, c'mon.  G-R-O-S-S.

Yes, so the weekend was...er...messy to say the least.  To top it off, my sweet husband had to work on Saturday morning, so I was left mid-fever to fend for myself and just try to survive for a few hours.  I barely made it and had to call him home early.  He returned to a post-apocalyptic version of our previous home...something hardly livable and now taken over by blankets, buckets and new piles of laundry that could easily be mistaken for that giant "trash-island" floating out in the middle of the sea.  Scaryville.

But, then, a new day dawned.  And it was Mother's Day.  Living through the couple days prior, I had exceedingly lowered my expectations for the day.  I knew we weren't going anywhere.  I knew there would be no smorgasbord (um, gag).  I knew there had been no time for my sweet husband to leave the house or surprise me with anything grand.  So, I took some time to just try and count my blessings.

Health.  Wow, is health underrated or what!?  I mean, I know you always hear the expression "At least you have your health"...but, man, is it true!  That is a huge one that I am in constant need of being reminded how important it is and how fragile it can be.  And we just had the stomach flu!  Inconvenient at most!  Nothing truly debilitating or life-altering.  So, thank you Jesus for our health - especially being on the mend.

Husband.  Major!  My love (who we all thought was doomed to get the nasty virus but still has yet to show signs of it, so Praise God!) may not have brought me breakfast in bed, but he did turn into "Harry Poppins" and magically cleaned the whole house.  I mean, mopped and everything!  So, the massacre of an abode has now remarkably transformed into a livable home again - fit for enjoyment and habitation.  His servanthood blesses me daily, but this went above and beyond as a wonderful gift, and I'm so thankful for his non-complaining attitude in tackling the nasty tasks that just needed to get done.  Kudos, Josh!

Hijas.  (Okay, okay, I don't speak Spanish...in fact, I murder the beautiful language with every attempt...but, see how I have this lovely H alliteration happening here...so, just let me roll with it this once!)  My daughters.  Certainly, Mother's Day wouldn't even be possible, let alone celebrated, without my beautiful daughters.  They bring me simple joys and complex challenges and blessings that exceed any greeting card sentiment imaginable.  They are too young to tell me what I mean to them...and even if they were old enough, I don't know if there are words for it anyway.  Parental bond is truly indescribable.  But, if there was something that would come close, something that could nearly encompass the feeling of bliss that my heart holds for these little beings, it would be in the feeling I get when they rest on me and take complete comfort in my just being there.  Just.  Being.  There.

And that's exactly what they gave me for Mother's Day.  Maybe it was the Tylenol.  Maybe it was the nap schedule gone awry.  Maybe it was the utter exhaustion from not having eaten in two days.  But, on Mother's Day...BOTH of my girls took their naps on me.  Completely fell asleep laying on top of me.  This is a rarity these days.  Sure, the baby will sometimes still doze off after a feeding sometimes, but it doesn't last very long anymore.  And Matilda hasn't slept on me on purpose since she was a baby herself.  This was a little slice of heaven for me to just sit and enjoy.

When you hold your baby, no matter how old they are, and they rest against you with complete comfort and total trust, it is the most humbling and amazing feeling in the world.  I hope every soul in the universe gets to experience this feeling at some point.  Time stops.  Peace triumphs.  And nothing else in the entire world matters.  That is love.

I'm not saying that I'll be wishing for a bout of the flu in our house again anytime soon.  I don't know if the stars will align just right where I'll get a day like that again for a while (or ever).  But, I'm so glad that this year God gave me a moment to just stop and take in the beauty of my precious little babes.

Try to find that in a greeting card!  Thanks, God.  Way to, once again, take my human disappointment and show me that I'm not forgotten.  I may not have had the beautiful brunch or the basket of beauty products (and don't feel too sorry for me...my husband has already planned ahead some escape time for me next weekend - woohoo!) but, I think I scored big time this Mother's Day.  (Plus...I lost like four pounds! Ha!)

I dare you to ask God to turn your "lemons into lemonade"...or, in this case, a post-apocalyptic-laundry-trash-island into a paradise of peace.  If even for a moment, it gave me a blissful reminder...and a Mother's Day I'll never forget.

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