Hi all!! I am writing this from the warmth of my bed, tea by my side, just after I finished reading my Bible. Oh, and with a handsome 5 foot 1 inch, ten-year old snuggled up next to me. Now, to most that sounds just fine, but today I am a bit disappointed. You see, I was supposed to be all alone with another handsome man; his father. And we were supposed to be all alone for two glorious days while Mackenzie stayed at a friend’s and the boys were at Todd’s sisters helping her put up her tree.
Todd and I even had real romantic plans.
Well, sort of.
With times being tight and the future uncertain at his plant, we were going to do some power Christmas shopping for the kids—at the second hand stores and re-sale shops (Platos Closet is our favorite!) Then we’d planned to take in a cheap but yummy dinner at Panera Bread. There dear hubby could order his beloved smoked turkey-artichoke panini while I stayed well within my Weight Watchers points by ordering soup and a whole grain baguette–leaving plenty of room for a sweet and creamy coffee later.
But all of those plans changed when I heard those ever familiar words that millions of moms dread.
“Mom, I think I’m gonna throw up!!”
Plan B is now firmly in place. Stay home, care for the sicko. Try to get caught up on a few little Christmas projects in between.
Most of all know that God is in it all.
For eighteen years I have told myself that there is nothing more holy than caring for a sick child. Loving, praying, reassuring. Oh, and buying them their favorite soda pop. (I NEVER buy soda pop. They squeal with delight when they get some in their stocking each year.)
Yes, it will be one holy day indeed.
Okay, I’m off to the bucket brigade. I’ll try to hop on tomorrow to tell our down-sizing story as I’ve promised for many months now.
But will ya do me a favor and pray for me? Its gonna be a painful tale to tell.
Hospital Zone Blessings,