My poor little buddy has been teething like crazy the last week or so — fingers constantly be gnawed on, saliva running down his fists, elbows, and leaving puddles on the floor. And of course, a touch of fever. So lots of time in my bed rather than his.
And now he’s got an awful cold — I suppose that’s hard to avoid when you’ve been jamming your fingers in your mouth for days, everywhere you go, no matter what you’ve touched. He’s had tears streaming down his cheeks all day long, and not because he’s been crying. Just because his whole face is running. He couldn’t nap, due to choking on phlegm, and only got a few minutes of sleep when he would finally succumb as I rocked him. Now he’s at last in bed, snuggled in my bed, still coughing. I feel so bad for him. I hate it when he’s sick.
So, I got very little done today. In fact, I have no idea how an entire day passed while I did [what felt like] nothing. But oddly enough, my day of doing nothing felt more full of meaning and purpose than most of my productive days ever do. As I spent a whole day offering juice, running for the tissues, and holding a warm and distraught little boy, I knew that those moments mattered. And was thankful, again, that my mom served us as though being a mom was a high and holy calling. Because it is.
Also of note, the blackberries in the backyard are ripening. Um, can you say YUM? (I can’t convince Jameson to try one, so I get them all to myself!)
Hey D, could you please send me your email address I had a question for you….
I hope your little man is feeling better soon.
I watched a video of you tonight playing Bach at a BASIC conference that Sonny recorded (long before we were married). I actually admitted to him out loud, “I often wish I could more like her.” Okay, I know what you’re thinking… we shouldn’t compare ourselves with other people, but hey, I said it and that’s that. You know, it wasn’t because you could play piano way better than me (I also shared with Sonny that you were playing more challenging music when you were 14 than I was as a Junior in college). Sonny asked me why, and I replied, “Well, you see how she plays that piano? Look at her face. She feels every range of emotion, lives them, embraces them, and it doesn’t mess her life up like it would mine. Look at her face. She’s been like that for as long as I’ve known her.” He understood. Then I shared with him this post about taking care of Jameson and finding fulfullment in that. I, too, have a sick (puking) child at home right now, and she didn’t get quite the attention Jameson did (though she also didn’t really need it). No… I grumbled all day about how I’m wasting my life saying the same phrases over and over again, minute by minute, “Be nice. Stop screaming. No running. Don’t touch your privates. Be gentle.” And to no lasting effect it seems. The same thing day after day- sometimes I just hate it; the huge lack of a sense of accomplishment. And then I shared about how Brietta was considering selling the second car because they “don’t need two cars.” I shared with Sonny, “She has four children the same ages as our’s and is content to stay home with them day after day, week after week, rarely getting a break… and would be okay with being cooped up all day while hubby has the car. What is it they have that I do not have? Maybe it’s growing up in the home that they had… they saw it in action, they lived the example and breathed it. I have none such example in my life.” I didn’t share these things in envy at all. Just a longing to do better than I’m doing.
@Angela: Bach at BASIC? What kind of worship set was that? :)
Okay, so full disclosure: today, during Jameson’s second day of misery, I told Ryan I needed to read my post again so I could have a better attitude about what was feeling like a frustrating day. Ha! :)
And while I do have to challenge myself with the things I know to be true quite often, I will say I think you hit the nail on the head with the whole growing up with an example. When I do find myself frustrated or bored or whatever, I know the truth I need to tell myself, because I saw my mother live it.
But she was a pioneer in that way. And I think what’s super exciting to me is realizing HOW MUCH her determination to get God truly affected me, and how much it’s blessing my life (and my family) right now. YOU can pass on that kind of heritage to your kids. Not a heritage of doing it perfectly, but of being willing to grapple with the truth, decide over and over to surrender to the will of God, and (with much determined plowing and sowing and weeding) amazingly see a harvest that your kids will benefit from.
(And as much as my mom was a great example of a woman, wife, and mother, her example of someone who was willing to repent and change and fix her attitude is as huge to me as anything — especially right now, as a new wife (still new, right?) and mom.)
(And P.S. any piano skills I had in high school are sooooo not there. :))
I admit, it is a very comforting thought when I go to the “look up to the Sinclairs” thought process (Yeah, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who does it… LOL Your family is very impressionable on us goofy college students!) I find great comfort in knowing that you’re mom didn’t have that head-start I’m always wishing I had. Kind of like another friend of mine who’s raising a Godly generation. She too didn’t have any sort of example to draw from. In fact, she had two or three children before she and her husband even found the Lord! If God can do that for these older ladies, surely He can do it for me. Right? Now, if I could just stay the course! LOL! Thanks Danica!