I planned a busy, productive weekend for our family. We were going to get the basement cleaned, the garage cleaned, and all the paperwork up to speed. So much for the best laid plans of Blond Girl, the supermom. We didn't get to any of it, and here's why:
On Friday, I took Sweet Girl to her 5-year checkup with her pediatrician. I did all the stuff they asked; fill out the forms, have Sweet Girl draw a picture, help her pee in a cup, check her hearing, check her sight. Check her height, check her weight, stand up, sit down, fight. fight. fight. The entire appointment took 2.5 hours, during which I learned that she is 41 inches tall and 34.5 pounds, putting her in the 25th percentile for height and weight (that's why I always say she's a little peanut).
The highlight of the appointment was the vaccination. Her pediatrician was compelled, for some reason, to tell Sweet Girl about the shots a full half hour before she got them. Now, I'm all for being honest to a child, but not brutally so. Since both Grandma Bina and I are diabetic, Sweet Girl gets to see plenty of shots. She knows what they are. I spent the next half hour trying to calm her down. She was distracted through the rest of the tests, near tears and continually telling me how scared she was of the shots to come. I repeatedly told her that they would hurt a little, but only for a moment and not to worry about it. Fat lot of good that did. (Side note, I really like her pediatrician, but I may need to give her some feedback about how she approaches the shot issue. Yes, warn the child. Right before the needle gets visible, and not sooner. Why stress them out for half an hour? But I digress.) So she got the shots - 2 of them and now she's OK to go to kindergarten. But they told me at the office that the shots could make her feverish and tired for the next couple of days.
Fast forward to Saturday, when all the work was to commence: Champs eye started giving him trouble. You may remember that he has had a corneal transplant in both eyes. His vision went horribly blurry on Friday and was no better on Saturday. So, we went to see one of the doctors at his eye clinic. The doctor came in special just to check his eyes. It doesn't appear to be rejection or infection, but possibly some toxic overload from all the drops he puts in his eyes. So, the hubby had next to no reliable vision for getting stuff done. We went to Target for a new prescription then went home. Sweet Girl was sleeping when we got home. At 5, she rarely ever naps anymore, but she was down for the count. So, we took a nap, too.
See, it's hot in Minnesota. Well, if radar is to be believed, its hot everywhere, but it is really hot here. It reached 97 degrees with unbelievable humidity both yesterday and today. When it's this hot, you can't really go outside. You can barely function. A nap seemed to make good sense to both of us. We didn't get up until nearly 5:30, when I finally started the laundry. I got it half done and the family watched "The Incredibles".
So, yesterday was a total wash. Today wasn't much better. We went to church and when we got home, Sweet Girl was pooped again. Her arm is one big red hot welt from the vaccination and she was like a damp rag. So, I had her go to lay down with a book and Champs and I took a nap as well. 45 minutes later, Sweet Girl came into our room and crawled into bed next to me. I told her to go to sleep. Miracle of miracles, she did, her warm little body pressed up against me.
I eventually dozed off for awhile, but soon I was awake again. Here I was; the work wasn't done, the air conditioning wasn't cooling the house (I'm pretty sure it's dead) and I had my husband on my left and my daughter on my right. I was trapped between them, hot and mildly frustrated that nothing was getting done or was likely to get done.
And then it hit me. Suddenly my mind went back ten years. I remembered being alone and despairing that I would never find anyone. I remembered the unrequited love that I held for one of my college friends and how I was never good enough for him. I remembered how my dad treated my mom like crap for years and years and I always figured that if I did find someone, I would end up with the same.
Then I looked to my left and saw this man who, for 7 years, has treated me like a queen. He may not be a millionaire, but he understands the finer points of love. Then I looked to my right and saw this beautiful little blond girl, who loves me and whose favorite pastime this week has been "attack kisses".
Suddenly, my heart welled up within me in absolute gratitude. "Thank you, Father, for bringing me this wonderful man. And thank you for giving us this beautiful child. I can't believe they are mine to love. Thank you."
And it didn't matter that the air conditioning is dying. It didn't matter that money is tight and the paperwork is still waiting to be done. It didn't matter that my basement is still a mess. What mattered is that God, in his infinite wisdom and love, saw what I needed all those years and sent me Champs and gave us Sweet Girl.
He really knew what He was doing.