Frogs and Laundry and Other Weighty Subjects

 If you had told me years ago that I would be caring for a medically fragile child, I would have laughed and laughed and laughed and then directed you to my wonderful sister who is compassionate enough to shave the armpits of someone she barely knows. This. Is. Not. Me. 

 I was going to be an artist who did ballet and played Annie then I was going to own my own restaurant which for some reason was to have a stream out front with a bridge you had to cross to get to the entrance. Notice the lack of anything about caring for others as the main requirement. Funny that God has me here now. 

 We just finished another stay at the children's hospital. This time for a virus that was probably picked up from our first stay. Opportunities arose to discuss foster care with staff and dispel some of the myths plus encourage others to consider doing it themselves. Usually this elicits the usual "I am just too sensitive" at which I laugh. Being a heartless, unfeeling zombie is not one of the qualifications to be a foster parent. You will get hurt and you will love and lose. It is still worth it. Trust me.

 While in the hospital the first go-round, we acquired a Frederick T. Frog. It is a weighted bean bag used as a positioning aid or, in my little jellybean's case, to anchor a Wubbanub pacifier so that someone did not have to stand next to his bed all night holding it in his mouth. (Thank you nurse!) It has produced the added benefit of calming him down and helping him fall asleep. 

The Wubbanub on top of a Frog

 Unfortunately, this necessary item was not grabbed in our mad dash to the emergency room the day after Christmas and we had a rough night. Our new nurse scraped up another frog for us. (Thank you new nurse) Now we have a spare that I will keep in my new hospital bag that will be kept in my car. 

 Right now, we are settling in to life with a g-tube and feeding pump which really translates to "doing lots of laundry from all the mishaps with the syringe, forgetting to clamp the tube, and pouring formula into the bag in the middle of the night." One would think that squirting one's self with someone else's stomach contents would produce a quick lesson in doing things right the next time. One would think. Of course that one probably had more sleep than I. 

 On a quick day running errands, I went to the post office early thinking that I could sneak in unscathed with the baby in his carrier safely hidden under his special car seat cover. Nope. An older man made a joke about mailing the baby then promptly reached down and pulled open the cover before I could scream like the shower scene in Psycho. Funny thing is, he must have been shocked by my deliciously chocolate-colored jellybean because he quickly dropped his hand and turned away, never speaking to us the rest of the time. I have learned that people with the most hang-ups are usually the ones to infringe upon another's personal space without politely asking and are also the most easily offended. If only I could come up with something clever to say in response or even better, use it as a way to bring up Jesus. Again, my poor sleep-deprived brain fails me. 

 So, I am trying to catch up on the ordinary dealings of life and I think I have given up on trying to do classes for natural health studies for the time being. There is just never a moment to do the reading and when I do try, my eyelids have this terrible habit of closing and not opening back up for an hour or two. This proves difficult when trying to write a research paper. It is a little discouraging but this is just season I keep telling myself. 

 My hubby and I have been discussing the possibility of what would happen if something should happen to one of us. This came about because I fell down the stairs on Christmas Eve and had to lay in the floor for a while before I could move. Thankfully it was just a bad twisted ankle but it is giving me fits and my hubby was scared into thinking how he would take care of everything if it had been worse. Obviously, I am not worried about what will happen to me if I die. I know the answer to that thanks to my relationship with Christ. Of course, my hubby was thinking more along the lines of the things I do that he knows nothing about and would have to take over doing - like providing all the care for the little jellybean or dealing with our daughter's health issues. I had never thought about the fact that no one else really knows what all I do. Not that I think I am irreplaceable or that I do an incredible amount. It just seems weird that I might be getting close to what the Proverbs 31 woman does - quietly running a household that brings her husband respect and glorifies God. Am I at least facing the right direction? 

 I think the answer is more closely tied to how I ended up caring for others when it was not my inclination to do so - God has done a work and He is not finished yet. Come lengthy hospital stays, clutzy shenanigans, or discouragements, God is using every moment and always working for His glory. For that I am grateful and rest in that Truth.