You are not going to believe where and under what circumstances I find myself blogging at nearly 1am. (ok, ok, maybe that hour of the night is not all that unusual for me.)
I’m in my daughter’s darkened bedroom, illuminated by the glow of a Disney princess lamp, sleeping in a sleeping bag on her floor. I was upstairs happily fiddling away my time, when my son came running upstairs to tell me that his sister was puking.
She’s in second grade and she had a fun playdate this evening. Tomorrow would have been her 6th tumbling class. FINALLY I was going to be able to make one. We started her in gymnastics on a weeknight that I had free and I was always able to take her. She decided she didn’t care for gymnastics and she’s rather enjoying the tumbling class…the foam pit, the trampolines – all her favorite stuff. Trouble is, I’d made plans for several Saturday mornings in a row – five to be exact – that precluded me from joining her for her tumbling class. Two were for non-negotiable work-related things. (a regularly, but not frequent weekend shift and a mandatory training for new computer software.) Two were for church things. (one for a class that I’ll admit, I just really enjoy; one because I was a voting delegate at our church convention.) and the fifth I no longer recall, but it wasn’t negotiable either. What a drag! And now the poor little darling has a stomach bug.
She was so sweet. I had to scramble to re-create reasonably waterproof bedding for her. I grabbed some of her old crib waterproof pads as the nicer mattress pad successfully protected her mattress, but was in no condition to sleep on again. Her pillow protector didn’t fare as well. I covered her slightly dampened pillow with a plastic garbage bag, then used binder clips to hold the fabric pillowcase closed tightly so there’d be no plastic bags ending up over her face. Meanwhile, Ｉput Daddy on the slightly less smelly and messy task of helping her to shower and get clean jammies on. She was nearly too sleepy to make it back downstairs to her bedroom, but she made it, falling immediately asleep when her head hit the pillow. All the while she’s worried about her bed if she pukes again. I assured her that I’d be here, and I’d wash it again if I have to. That’s what mommies do for their girls. Your job is to lie down, be comfy, and let me tuck you back in.
I get these twinges of guilt when I run off doing church stuff sometimes. Particularly when I actually am enjoying myself. But somehow, this adorable little girl keeps me up on her virtual pedestal of parental adoration. I hope she fondly recalls these moments of nurture, and liberal doses of fun and laughter too of course. I hope she knows I’m saddened that we’ll miss tumbling tomorrow. I dearly hope I have chosen her first often enough – and that I have provided a model of being a loving (often doting!) mom, while following the inner person and track that I believe God has crafted me to follow. Mom always, but not mom only. (God has crafted me to be one complicated (sometimes endearing, sometimes annoying!) creature.)
Sleep peacefully, my sweetie.