If you'd like to scare yourself silly and convince yourself that your child has mono, do what I did. I knew going in this was a bad idea. I told myself to keep cool, to not believe in Crone's disease, to remain objective. Yeah, that flew out the window real quick. Mono, meningitis, Rheumatic fever, all of these panic-inducing results flashed on the page. After much nail-biting and texting my sister (an LPN) to let her know my children were dying, I made another appointment. When I described the symptoms, they told me to come immediately and they had me wait with them in the hall. My children had the plague. Or leprosy.
Hand foot mouth disease! Do you know how many times I've seen this in my years as a preschool teacher?! Yes, it was around their mouths and, yes, their hands too. But the fever was so high and the rash was so bad and I'm such a worry wart that I was sure it was a tropical strain of the measles or something. This is what Coen's leg looked like.
I've never seen that before. He also had a secondary skin infection. So add that to your database of childhood rash disease photos. In other news, we were waiting and waiting for a check to come in from some side work Christian did. Waited for a week. Watched the money leave the bank as bill after bill needed to be paid. Watched as the gas gauge dipped closer to "E." Watched the fridge get a little bit emptier each day. Good thing I like to do cooking experiments cuz when certain ingredients are out of stock, we gotta make it up as we go! Watched the mail, waiting and waiting. I wish I could say I watched and prayed. I wish I could be that lady in the picture that is calmly praying and perfectly believing. I had moments. Moments where I was sure that God, who has come through every time, would come through once again. And then I had moments of panic. Where my mind would run away on the what-if train, just knowing we were going to crash and burn. Every hopeful, hurried trip to the mailbox ended with a worried trudge back to the house to announce, "No check."
Finally on Friday, I made the call I had been dreading. Not because I don't like who I'm calling. I like her a lot, actually. It was the kind of call that made me feel not so grown-up. Not in control of my own destiny. To admit I needed help. I had to psyche myself up for this call. That it was okay. That God would forgive me for being so faithless. I had held it together the whole week but IF that check didn't come, I wouldn't even be able to make a phone call come Saturday. And in that moment I wasn't sure if he would come through. I called my mommy. Asked her and dad if we could borrow money with promises to pay it back. Whenever the check came. You know what I didn't do before I called her? Check the mail. We bought groceries as soon as the money was in the account and instead of checking the mail on the way back from the store I trudged in grateful for all the food I had to lug in but sad that I had not been able to hold it together. Maybe it would be in the mail Saturday morning. Maybe we'd have enough time. The check was sitting in my mailbox that Friday afternoon.
You know what I'm most grateful for? The fact that God doesn't let me drown just because I lose faith. He rescues me from my situation but also from my faithlessness about the situation. And He restores it. And I can feel stupid about what I did but He's ready to move on.
The other reason this week was a little tough was this week marked not only the birthdays of my Grandma and Granddad Wilson but the death of my Granddad. His funeral was actually one year ago today. Which definitely mixes my emotions up having Aria's birthday today as well. Her first birthday was met with a lot of tears so this was the first time she'd had a birthday party.
I've heard lots of church music this week. Christian won tickets to a Jimmy Needham concert. If you haven't heard of him, he's pretty stinking awesome. We had only heard him on the radio. Nice songs, but hadn't thought much of it until we won the tickets. Another person touring with him was Ross King. You must know this guy. I'm not saying you do, I'm saying you MUST! His words blew me away. I really liked "Hallelujah For the Cross." You can tell he's not really one to do music videos but don't laugh. Just listen to the words and close your eyes if you must.
Anyway, in addition to that, I heard a lot of hymns, which are part of my DNA just about. When you grow up falling asleep in a pew to these songs, they're kind of like a mile marker along your life journey. Times when you had no idea what they meant and couldn't care less, times when you believed and were on fire, times when you finally realized what they meant. Not to mention the times when you knew what they meant and didn't care. When times were simpler and I wasn't so tired. I've been to all of those places. I don't hear them as much as I used to anymore. I suppose they are kind of uncool or irrelevant for some. It was hard this week hearing them again because they remind me of my grandparents too. I'm on the fence about them being made over. Some that I have heard are great but I also feel like, "Don't you be messing with my hymns." I know it's shallow. After all, I'm not supposed to be worshipping a song or genre.
I don't have a witty closing but to say, that was my week and I hope I have the energy come Monday morning to make it through a new one! I have a terrible two year old on my hands, after all!
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