. . . there was a mama who sprinted to her computer with an almost obsessive need to purge her thoughts onto the glowing blank screen of her Blogger page. The tap-tap-tap of the keyboard matched the thump-thump-thump of her heart as she excitedly reflected on the tiny little things that made her life beautiful. This mama loved to look a bit closer to see if she could find the beauty in the mundane, the treasures in the monotony, the extraordinary in the ordinary, and the breathtaking in the normal.
She liked it. . . it was fun.
But then the day came when she was overwhelmed by high tide waves of nausea and consciousnesses defeating exhaustion and she lost sight of such things.
She got stuck. She was getting by, at best. Surviving trumped thriving. Gray clouds seemed to settle in. And then one day. . . the clouds seemed to slowly begin to lift. Maybe it was perspective, maybe it was drive, maybe it was pure will. Or maybe. . .
it was the new medication her doctor gave her.
I had you going didn’t I? Ah, yes. . . this one even my perspective couldn’t conquer. We had our first ultrasound this week (in which my doctor moved my due date BACK 1.5 weeks) and when I casually mentioned that I was still having quite a bit of trouble with nausea she gave me something to help.
Oh, I was thankful for this little boost which helped me get my head back in the game and enjoy what turned out to be a beautiful weekend.
(That mama was me, in case you haven’t guessed it.)
Once again we shunned our usual homebody ways and packed our bags and drove the hour and a half to spend the first part of the weekend with dear friends.
|Chanelle mastered playing UNO with her toes.|
I don’t know about you, but I am a proponent of slumber parties. Really, is there a reason they should end when you are out of high school? There is something about “settling in for the night” that makes the atmosphere more relaxing and inviting. There is no checking your watch so you don’t get home too late, no skipping certain conversation topics because there is only so much time, no worries about anything except to be in that moment.
We visited my dearest friend from high school and her family. Our kids interact like they are family, which is such a sight to see. Katy and I shared many a slumber parties in our growing up years. Back then they were filled with loads of chocolate, boy talk, and movies. Now, we watch our kids, chat with our husbands, and there is far less chocolate. But one thing remains the same. . .
. . . even after all these years, we wake up and go for a run together. Running is what bonded us and I believe, was the glue that formed our friendship so many years ago. Twenty years later, there is much more holding it together, but the running remains.
Of course we couldn’t let the weekend pass without doing what I’m sure many families were doing this weekend. Oh yes, bring on the eggs. . .
As we pulled away from their house and began the trip back to our own I made a mental note to make sure that slumber parties always remain a priority. It’s so easy for schedules to get filled with kids activities, life commitments, and general busyness, but I want to challenge myself to prioritize slumber parties that occur on a more regular basis in order to keep my tank on full.
Like the rest of the world the weekend passed all too quickly leaving me thirsty for more. Of course we didn’t bring down the curtain on the weekend before celebrating a most special day in a very low key way. We spent Easter morning with my in-laws at their church and I was so over-whelmed when I opened the bulletin and found that they had included my mom’s name on flowers that they had donated for the mornings service.
I’m a lucky girl.
And on another note, I want to say a HUGE thank you for all the congratulations and well wishes from my last post. My heart expanded as I felt the support, love, and cheers of those of you are have walked before me and are walking along side of me as our family grows. A million times is still too few times to express how thankful I am for this blogging community.