Sitting on the couch hawk eyeing Ellis. Morning was fine until she complained of a headache. Told her to drink some water. She did. Didn’t make much of her complaint.
Cuddles with me on the couch during online church service and she gives me that look. It’s the I’m going to barf look. Now I realize she’s serious. Elliot turns to me and says “I’m scared” probably thinking we’ll be away at the hospital for a day or two.
Several rounds of throw ups and I imagine this situation getting worse with dehydration and continuous vomiting. When I get her nausea medicine from the fridge, the expiration date was April 2020. Good news that we haven’t needed it in a while but when you’re stressed you get irritable and irrational.
Gave Chris the evil glare since he’s the medicine manager & pick-up person: not his fault but I felt like being mean to him. These kinds of situations bring out the worst in me towards him. He takes it in stride but it doesn’t make it good either.
Our hospital bag is packed and I’m dressed to drive to th ER if the headache continues. As I was getting ready, grumpily and anxiously, she fell asleep. Maybe she’s sleeping it off. It’s been an hour.
Pediatrician did mention that her abdominal migraines would become head migraines as she gets older. Her proposed remedy: dark room, quiet space, cool air, and sleep.
We’re the only ones in the living room, mild breeze wafting in from the open window and water flowing sounds from the fish tank. I pray and hope her deep sleep will relieve the headache. And I pray the others in the family will forgive me for driving them out of the living room and being so irritated.
At church today the message was about being a light in the world. I did not live up to that, maybe more like a cannon ball.
Thanks for reading my harried thoughts. I’m so thankful to have this space to share the ups and downs of my life adventures with you all.
I do a lot of cleaning; more so since we’re always home since March of this year. It is a wonder how much crumbs (from cookie debris to dried pieces of rice) accumulate on the floor by the end of the day. Spills are also big at our house, so mopping the floor is a daily thing too. What’s not obvious about this physical labor is its effects.
If I don’t scrub, mop, sweep, wipe down, wash, and/ or organize, it’s apparent that the living space is messy. The half eaten apple with tiny teeth marks has turned brown and empty milk box with chocolate milk dripping on the side stands proudly on the kitchen counter. I say “proudly” because kids feel that bringing their dirty plates and leftovers to the counter is a big deal. I have to get them to the next step of cleaning up their dirty dishes and other things.
However, this is the crazy part; straight up baffling! If our living space is clean and orderly, it goes unnoticed except for me.
But the hardwood floors get a lot of cleaning since someone drops or spills something on the floor: everyday. Last night Elliot dropped a raw egg on the floor, which splat everywhere. It would be a good learning experience to make him clean up the mess, yet I couldn’t have him handling a raw egg and creating more of a disaster than the initial one.
I’ve been decluttering for years and I’ve made some progress since I can (more so) find what I’m looking for; I call that serious improvement. 🙂 I knew things had to change when someone would ask me for something and I’d dig into an abyss of crap…I mean stuff…and locate it without even looking at it. I was the only person who could locate the object and that meant more work for me.
My decluttering now incorporates finding a specific home for our commonly used items (ex. nail clippers, hairbrush, kitchen towels, disposable utensils from take outs, stream of school supplies, Lego galore, paper towels, among others): but designating a specific home for random things is mentally taxing.
If I haven’t used the object in questions for the past 5 years, I toss it, reluctantly. It’ll stick around another five years if I don’t willfully remove it. The best time to do this is when I’m mad and less emotional about holding onto sentimental items. So if you hear papers shuffling, closet doors closing and opening, and the crinkling sounds of garbage bag…that’s me letting out steam. I also eat green peas by the spoonful when I’m upset.
Although cleaning goes unnoticed and doesn’t feel like an earth moving chore, but I remind myself that it fulfills a bigger purpose to create a harmonious space for our family to grow and live. I wish there was more acknowledgement but whatever. I tell myself that God notices, which is the best recognition, and that I’m doing this to keep my sanity intact too. This is my labor of love, just like Chris sits at his desk and replies to emails for hours (once he’s done responding, he has to reply to the responses). ack!
I love this quote from Brother Lawrence, because it shows that even flipping a food in the pan is an act of worship if we make it that. I haven’t personally read his works, but I learned about him through another writer where the “omelette” quote made a deep impression on me. He lived and died over 300 years ago, but his words still inspire that tasks which seem menial are not. He joined the monastery after getting injured as a soldier and his work mainly dealt with cooking and doing other tiring tasks for others in the monastery.