Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Heaven is Cheering Me On!



Monday was the last day of Fall break.
I was pretty much annoyed all day, which was a bummer for 
The Little Nies who were trying to cherish 
every second of their last day of freedom.
On Sunday, I hit my pinkie finger hard as I unloaded the dishwasher.
(If you don't know pinkie, let me explain.)
My pinkie broke at some point in the accident and was never fixed,
 (and was the least of the doctor's concerns at the time of trauma).
Now the bone protrudes and makes it look like I'm in a BBC classic
 drinking tea in a delicate teacup all the time (you know what I mean?).
And now the thinnest layer of skin covers the pinkie knuckle bone. 
I swear one of these days, I will bump just right, and the bone will pop out.  
That, or one day, in a painful rage, I will cut it off myself in the kitchen.
We've discussed amputation, but that comes with many 
concerns (none of which is the actual amputation anymore- bring it on, I say!).
So today, when I woke up, it felt like someone had taken a large mallet 
to my hand and fingers and pounded on them for hours.
It's swollen and just throbs all day long. 
 It just really hurts- my whole hand really hurts.
It hurts to button clothes, fold laundry, and change sheets 
(which I had to do since Lottie tinkled in my bed last night).
 It hurts to brush my teeth, comb my hair, play, and cook, 
and it even hurts to type this blasted blog post.
When I physically hurt, I get really down, and my patience hangs by a thread. 

Tonight, after I got Lottie out of the tub and into her footies, 
I knelt to help her put her little feet in the footie part.
She kept putting her hands on my hair and pulling out my bun,
and that was really bothering me.  
"Please don't pull on Mommy's hair, Lottie."
Then she grabbed my hair again, 
intentionally missing her foot into the footie part,
and laughed and pretended to lose her balance and fall down.
Repeat that three more times.
I wasn't laughing; I was super annoyed, and my hand felt 
like it was smashed into a big fat sandwich press.
Lottie grabbed my hair again and tugged 
as I put her feet back into her jammies.
Then I plopped her in bed, prayed, and kissed her goodnight.
I walked into my bedroom, thinking about how impatient I had been.
Mr. Nielson is at the ranch for the week, and I am at it alone, which is hard.

"Mom" 
I heard Lottie's little voice.
"Why are you so mad at me?"
My heart melted, and I looked down at my hand, which I swear was visibly throbbing.
I walked back to her room, knelt by her bed, kissed her,
and promised everything would be better tomorrow.

I better pray that everything is better tomorrow because sometimes
 It's hard to fake it.
Then she asked me for a drink of cold water.
I walked into my kitchen, turned on the light, and saw this 
wonderful quote by Jeffery R. Holland that I have framed.

I am not alone in this job, and I can do it. I can do it.
I can do it, pinkie and all.



 * * * *

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