The last two weeks have been hard. Never has my whole family been sick at the same time. I was the least sick of the bunch, but when there are six other sick people in a house, the least sick one is the one doing most of the nursing.
It's been day-to-day for me. At night, I would lay my head on my pillow, and just as I start drifting off, someone would cry or cough. This would the pattern throughout the night. Then in the day, I would try to maintain some order in the house, while teaching or entertaining the healthier children. And I wish I can say I've been successful at doing this graciously, but weariness and stress has made me a rather grumpy Mama Bear. (At this point, my husband would jump in with "'Mama Baird', you mean." After ten years of marriage, I can't help but think in puns too.)
This morning was one of those mornings. The baby hadn't slept hardly, and was crying in pain and frustration. I was groggy, slow, and hungry. The older children were playing happily, but a little louder than I would have liked. Then I found the baby having a private tea party in the potty. Water was all over the floor. And this was after a week's worth of lectures on keeping that door closed. When my husband came to kiss me good-bye, I hardly gave him a peck.
"I have a right to be grumpy!" I told myself. "I'll take the long-suffering, but I don't have to do it joyfully or quietly!"
Now where in the Bible does it say that?!?!
Good thing we're still studying Philippians. I try to picture Paul, in prison, being glad! A house full of sick people is a prison-of-sorts, but I should have many more reasons to be glad than an innocent man in prison!
As soon as I gave up my right to be grumpy, my whole day changed. I made and served breakfast with joy. We had a wonderful day of school, ending with our mail-woman delivering our package of Painted Lady butterfly larvae and ladybug larvae! My mother-in-law dropped by for a little bit, and I'm so glad her morning was blessed by a visit to a happy home, instead of a dreary sickhouse.
But there is one thing left to do to redeem my grumpy-Mama-Bear day: give my husband a big smooch as soon as he steps through the door tonight!
This morning was one of those mornings. The baby hadn't slept hardly, and was crying in pain and frustration. I was groggy, slow, and hungry. The older children were playing happily, but a little louder than I would have liked. Then I found the baby having a private tea party in the potty. Water was all over the floor. And this was after a week's worth of lectures on keeping that door closed. When my husband came to kiss me good-bye, I hardly gave him a peck.
"I have a right to be grumpy!" I told myself. "I'll take the long-suffering, but I don't have to do it joyfully or quietly!"
Now where in the Bible does it say that?!?!
Good thing we're still studying Philippians. I try to picture Paul, in prison, being glad! A house full of sick people is a prison-of-sorts, but I should have many more reasons to be glad than an innocent man in prison!
As soon as I gave up my right to be grumpy, my whole day changed. I made and served breakfast with joy. We had a wonderful day of school, ending with our mail-woman delivering our package of Painted Lady butterfly larvae and ladybug larvae! My mother-in-law dropped by for a little bit, and I'm so glad her morning was blessed by a visit to a happy home, instead of a dreary sickhouse.
But there is one thing left to do to redeem my grumpy-Mama-Bear day: give my husband a big smooch as soon as he steps through the door tonight!
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