I had a "that sucks" moment today. Several actually, but the crowning one was discovering that the plague, otherwise known as the highly contagious stomach flu, is still working its way through the ranks of the Adams family. More specifically, I am bound to get it soon. After all, I have the immune system of an infant and illness seeks me like moth to flame. I can handle the sick part, I'm used to it, and after all I've been through childbirth. No, the worst part is that I am supposed to go visit my college girlfriends this weekend.
My college girlfriends are rare. All stunningly beautiful, they are also the kind of friends that make me dissolve into a joyful puddle. Having shared college, we were with each other for first (and last) loves, first kisses (believe it or not), first alcoholic beverages, trips to Europe, endless nights/mornings in the library, and the last steps from adolescence into independence. They watched me become an adult, they stood beside me at my wedding. They are raw and honest with me, affirming and loyal. The upcoming weekend is our third March reunion in a row, and this annual trip gives me a re-boot like you wouldn't believe. My husband looks forward to this weekend because of my resulting mood.
As you have already seen coming, I am not going. Sucks with a capital "S". I can see you cringing with me as you read this. I can't go because I'll probably be parked in el baño for most of the weekend, (judging by the sleuth-like nature of above described viral plague), or at least will have passed on germs to my friends, their husbands, and their babies. As I cannot live with either option, I have decided to stay home. Like I said, they watched me become an adult--and now I am making an adult decision.
You can imagine that as I walked in the door from the grocery store, having firmly planted in my mind my decision, tears were brimming dangerously near my eyeballs. So when the first thing I saw was my one-and-a-half year old sitting in his daddy's lap, facing him and smiling the biggest and most genuine smile I'd seen all day, I was so grateful. Because you know, maybe Jonathan will get sick this weekend too, and I will be there to hold that sweet little face when the smile is forgotten and he is teary-eyed. I will be there to cuddle with him and rub his back and fill up his juice exactly how he likes it. I may not be with my girlfriends, but at least I can be mom.
I was rocking Jonathan to sleep tonight and pondering my ill-fated weekend when I suddenly remembered I hadn't gotten my goodnight kiss. He was half asleep in the dark, the music playing a soft classical lullaby in our ears. His little cheek lay on my shoulder and his sausage fingers played mindlessly with my hair. "Can I have a kiss," I asked. Without hesitation he groggily lifted his sleepy head, puckered up like a fish, and waited for me to put my lips in front of his. A little peck, and he lay back down on my shoulder.
It's the little things. The little things that make the big things bearable. These little blessings, the soft kisses and genuine smiles, the fact that my husband picked up the toys the other day so that I didn't have to, the fact that one of above described college friends called today just to check on me, my daily 8:00 am phone call from a good friend, the endearing shout-outs I get in my sister's blog. Those little things add up, you know, and make me feel like although this whole sickness/ruined plans/missing old girlfriends thing is downright stupid I know it'll be okay.
All of this will be okay, because God keeps reminding me with these little gifts that He's making castles out of my ruins. He's making a great cake from the inadequate ingredients I've got. And all of this stupid stuff is part of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment