Sick Thoughts

I'm on the eighth day of a doozy of a cold.  I'm not sure which symptoms will greet me in the morning when I wake up.  It began with a sore throat, and the next day seemed to subside.  The day after that, it felt like I'd been hit by a truck.  Then two days of feeling better.  Sunday was awful.  Monday was better. Today is awful too.

I'm exhausted from lack of sleep.  Coughing and headaches have stolen my precious hours of rest.  On top of that, I find that having three children is not conducive to rest anyway.  They already have far more energy than I do.  Now that I'm sick, it multiplies my disadvantage exponentially.

Being literally sick and tired is no time to think deep thoughts because they only tend toward the depressed and discouraged ones.  But what's a tired, restless body and mind to do when it can't muster up the energy for anything else?

I went to bed thinking about the boy in my kids' karate class who ignores my son every time he tries to talk to him.

I had  "the" bad dream- the one where Josh leaves me.

I notice that the layer of dust is getting thick on the shelves.  And remember that a whole bunch of people are coming for Thanksgiving.

I think of the pies I have to bake.  And that I need to make sure the turkey is defrosting properly.

I get sucked into searching Amazon for early Black Friday deals. And remember that I'm not looking at any of the flyers this year.  And have very little shopping to do anyway.

I'm grouchy because I'm sick but I still have to put the kids to bed every night.  And then I remember that they haven't gotten out of their pjs or brushed their teeth yet this morning.

I start to worry about cavities.

I'm kind of upset and really discouraged that Josh hasn't gotten a deer this year. He's put in  hours in the freezing cold for nothing.

The house is full of food but all I want is some soup.  And there's no soup in the house.

I make some soup out of leftover meatballs, half a carton of beef broth, some quickly chopped baby carrots and a few pressed cloves of garlic. I beg the kids to leave me alone for 52 minutes- just long enough to lay on the couch with my bowl of soup and an episode of Call the Midwife.

I only have a few episodes left to watch and I'll be all caught up. Even this thought makes me sad.  It's such a beautiful program, all about love, so powerfully full of LIFE!  And once I'm caught up, then what will I watch when I need 52 minutes all to myself?

But I feel better after some soup and some rest.  Even 52 minutes helps.

I make lunch for the kids.  I'm calling it lunch, anyway.  Popcorn, a cheese stick, hot cocoa, and a slice of coffee cake.  I'm waiting for Mister to tell me we didn't have lunch today. He likes very traditional meals.

I almost made chocolate chip cookies?  Am I crazy????  No, cooking is just therapy for me.

But I don't need therapy. I need rest today. There will be all that cooking and baking in the next few days.

I'm thankful my mom will be here. She'll make the turkey (if it's defrosted).  She'll give the kids all the attention I haven't been able to this past week.

I'll feel better soon.  Til then, I must come up with something that resembles dinner.  Cereal?  Rolled up ham and cheese?  A scoop of peanut butter and some crackers?

I cough my way through the obligatory three books before bed.  I'm tempted to stay up for a while, now that the kiddos are asleep in their beds and I can get a few things done in peace.  But I force myself to crawl into bed.  I hack and cough for over an hour, and pray for sleep. I need it so desperately.

And it comes.  No bad dreams.  Fewer worries.  Just the usual interruption of my littlest needing to go potty. And the next thing I know, Josh is returning from his night shift. He crawls in beside me, and though I am still coughing a little, all is right with the world and I feel better.

Simply, Thankful

Every day I'm reading thoughts of thankfulness in my news feed.  I love this and I appreciate it, though I haven't joined in.  I sometimes fear being one of those people who updates my status too often.  Or shares too many links. Or comes across the wrong way. Or reveals too much.

So I suppose I save more words for this place, a place only visited by a faithful few (and since I'm writing about thankfulness, I want you to know I am so very thankful that you do read my ramblings).  A writer needs to write.  It's almost like drawing breath sometimes.  And a writer needs to be heard to keep sharing.

I'm thankful for things deep, ridiculous, simple, often overlooked. Things beyond my comprehension.  Things I touch every day.

I'm thankful for the fish sticks and the french fries and the dill pickle slices we ate for supper, because I just didn't feel well enough to make anything better for dinner tonight.

I'm thankful for the layers of deep color in this morning's sunrise, just on the horizon, deep pink and gold and amber and stopping me in my tracks.

I'm thankful for a warm comfortable bed.

For the vacation credit card bill being paid in full.

For the basement being full of wood to heat us this winter.

For bags of potatoes at $1.99 a piece.

For bags of honeycrisp apples at $2.50 a piece.

I'm thankful for The Snowy Day and Llama Llama and Max's Dragon Shirt read over and over and over again.

I'm thankful for peace so deep even though there are so many things I'd change about my circumstances right now.

For Call the Midwife.

For Christmas music early.

For the word "mama".  Even though I don't receive a dime for it's use, it has made me rich.

I'm thankful for the verses that speak to me completely out of context but so clearly by the Holy Spirit.

I'm thankful for photographs.

For all four of my children's grandparents being believers in Christ and for being fully involved in their lives.

For the many beautiful stories I've shared with my children over the years.

For marrying my best friend, though I didn't know he was at the time.

For the times Petite takes me arm and wraps it around her and then snuggles in close to me.

For the intuition of my Brown-Eyed-Girl.

For the strengths emerging in my son.

For that first peppermint mocha of the season.

For the empty hole that will never be filled til heaven.

I'm thankful for the goodness and love and kindness of people. It's there, it's all around; it's stronger than evil and hate and cruelty.

I'm thankful for new mercies every morning. And every afternoon. And every evening. Moment by moment, if necessary, they are available.

For memories.

For the ones about to gather in our home this Thanksgiving.

For the joy in their eyes when they see the snowflakes fall.


I could go on and on. I am blessed.  As my husband says, and as he lives his life, If the Lord never does another good thing for me, He's already done more good than I deserve.

And yet... there is still so much more good to come.

For this, I'm thankful.