It was right there in my inbox this morning. A quick read and a simple enough reminder: conduct myself as one covered by grace.
Instead, today, I got to conduct myself as one covered in vomit. Lovely.
We’ve had the stomach bug hanging around for a few days. It lies dormant between victims giving us just enough false hope to believe it’s passed. Oh, and about ten days ago it was masked as strep.
But nevertheless, it’s a stomach issue. A nasty, stinky one.
Hope you’re not eating while reading. But most of you who read this are moms with cast iron stomachs because at some point between labor and delivery (or paperwork and adoption) we become capable of actually catching the expulsion with our bare hands.
I think we got microchipped or something.
So that’s what I did today. I did whatever it took to keep throw up off my sofa for the fourth time in three days. Eventually, I gave into a dose of Zofran we had lying around from the earlier incident.
He’s cured! Let’s hope.
I also did whatever it took to keep calm and direct on. Which meant Gus went to rehearsal with me instead of Mimi’s (please don’t infect the cast!) and I put off this post until now. (By the way, I’m failing miserably at making this a weekly link up. But that’s another post about how I’m trying to see past pageviews and followers.)
This is about how I tried to do whatever it took today to not lose it when life didn’t follow my plan. When Gus had throw up in his hair and eyelashes. When Amelia refused to wear anything other than her monkey pajama pants. When Annabelle dissolved into hysterics as we flushed Madelynne’s pet fish.
Whatever it takes.
For me it was finally cleaning this glass door. A simple mundane task to remind me that life goes on and eventually everything gets done. Even in the midst of a manic Monday.