hell week…

I should not complain.

Seriously should not. But, whatever, here it comes.  A couple weeks ago our daughter confirmed that she needed to have minor surgery.  Now, “minor” is a relative  term.  My.Daughter.Surgery.  Those words do not blend well, so I had to go into mom mode, reminding myself that it was NOT about me, that I needed to be a resource and a source of strength.  That I had to pray and accept the healing even before I saw it manifested.  That I had to eat and sleep and not hover.  That 3 phone calls a day with “how are you feeling?” is not appropriate or acceptable. I bought her new pajamas and slippers, made a casserole, took the day off work.  “Why mom?  Why are you taking off work?”  Oh, I don’t know…..maybe because MY DAUGHTER IS HAVING SURGERY.  “Just in case you need me for something that day”.  “No, I’ll be fine”.  Turns out her husband couldn’t get off that day and I was needed to do transport, sit in the waiting room drinking nasty coffee == but I was also afforded the wonderful sight of the doctor telling me that everything went well, everything looked great.  Score!

Which would have been enough to make it a rough week, right? Wait for it, it gets better…

3 days before surgery we had our first snow storm of the season.  Husband and son in law decided it was a good day to chop wood.  (You can imagine what is coming, right?).  Off they went.  I did the grocery store run, stocked up on soup and chili ingredients, came home and cuddled up on the couch with coffee and my knitting.  It occurred to me around noon, when there were 3 inches of snow on the  ground and wicked cold, that I hadn’t heard anything.  So I called.  Husband assured me that they were loading the last truck and he would be home for lunch……. 2 hours later I tried his phone and the son in law….no answer… another hour passed, I finished knitting the mittens, and I tried him again.  “Yeah, Im getting some xrays done”.  WTF?  “I fell, I think I broke a rib”.  Truth is, he broke  two, and had been in the ER for 3 hours, I mean, why call me?  Why should I know my husband of 38 years and one day ( don’t even ask about the missed steak dinner reservations for that evening ) was in the ER?

And so began hell week. A week of cooking, shifting blankets, propping pillows, buying coffee, hugging babies, heating casseroles, handing out medicines….worrying.  Scolding.  Threatening to call an ambulance on Wednesday when he had decided he could sleep in the bed and then we couldn’t get him out of it.  45 hour work week…

So, last night I fell asleep at 7:00 pm.  exhausted.  And, of course I awoke at 3 am.  I’m gonna need a nap.

Advertisements

it sounded like a great idea

Granddaughter Number 1 was spending the night last night.  She had done this countless times since she was a baby.  My son is pretty much raising her himself, her mom having gone in and out of the picture more times than most people paint their nails, but at any rate our girl has her own room at our house, her own potty, massive amounts of toys and books. you get the picture.

so last night she was spending the night.  I thought, hey shes 4 now, lets jazz it up.  Lets have a “camp out” in the family room.  She was all for it.  we changed into jammies, pushed the “princess barbie room” out of the way ( dont ask) , lay blankets and pillows and purple baby and naked barbie and reindeer holding a ice cream cone  on the floor.  The  two ponies rested on barbie;s canopy.  We settled in for a night of “watching  tv all night long.”

“dont touch me, Im making a line”

“grammy I need a drink”

“I spilled on my nighty”

“I DONT WANT TO CHANGE MY NIGHTY”

“lets bounce”

“This blanket has holes” ( crochetted afghan)

“Whats that smell?”

“can I lay my head on your lap?” ( Ahh, grammy moment)

“Im hungry.” ( Cereal at 12:00 am)

“I want to watch Minnies bowtique”

“I dont have to go potty”

“grammy, Im tired, you better put me to bed”

so we stumbled up the stairs way after midnight, me marveling at the fact that she had lasted that long AWAKE.  Placed her in her crib ( I know, way too old for a crib but we havent put a toddler bed up yet and she humors us …), kissed her head, told her I love her and went to my own warm bed.

“Grammy”

“Grammy, you left the door open”

“Grammy, I peed my bed”

whew.  Im exhausted.  next time, into bed at 9.