Say a Little Prayer

I will not say that things have gone from bad to worse.  It sounds melodramatic.  But honestly, we just can't catch a break.

Hubband and I have been so sick, that for four straight nights all we did was lay awake and cough on each other.  (Or is it "lie" awake?  I can never remember.  I am too lazy to look it up and too sick to care.  Besides, I digress.)  Come morning, he packed all that was left of himself in his brief case and went off to work.  I stayed home and tried to conserved as much energy as possible while (in)effectively parenting three small kids.  There was no energy left for the house or even the cooking.  How many times a week can you serve your child Taco Bell before Child Protective Services gets involved?

Monday was so bad.  I just begged God to send help.  I didn't care what it looked like.  Random lady from church stopping by.  A second cousin calling.  UPS deliveryman.  I would take it as a sign and beg them to help me.  No such thing happened.

When Hubband got home from work he said, "My dad called.  He said he'd like to helps us out if we need it.  Just let him know.  He can be down in a day."

Well, that's just crazy, I thought.  Why would we ask him to fly down from Seattle to help us?  Then it occurred to me, we would ask for help because WE NEED HELP!

Grandpa Scott and Samuel, July 2009

So, Tuesday morning, Grandpa Scott descended, like a Marine on a rescue mission.  He cleaned, he cooked, he wrangled my children with a tone of voice and a look.  (Why can't I do that?)  And I rested.  For two whole glorious days.  He ran this place so well, I was ashamed.  Even his cooking was good.  Though he does butter the bread on his egg salad sandwiches (butter and mayo seems excessive) and his preferred method for cooking breakfast sausage is to boil it in oil, it can't be worse than Taco Bell.

Oh we love you Grandpa Scott!!!!!

He left today.  I thought I was doing better.  But without the hourly bouts of rest Grandpa's presence afforded me, I barely made it to noon.  But I made it.  To noon at least.  Thank goodness Jonah is in school today.

And, I must do it again tomorrow.  With all three kids.  Did I mention I have completely lost my voice?  How am I going to handle three kids with no voice?  I am trying not to think about it.  Thinking doesn't help.