Spring has Sprung

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

I'm so thankful it is spring and every activity under the heavens currently involves soaking up the glorious, warm sunshine. And baby calves.  Few things in life are better than baby calves.  We are thankful for them too!

Lessons Learned

I learned a plethora of invaluable information last week when so many in our household were sick.  Feel free to garner infinite wisdom from me:

• When your uber masculine husband is sick, nothing does the trick quite like locking him in the bedroom and letting him watch chick-flicks all day long by himself.  His viewing choices?  The movie, Titanic, and soap operas.  I kid you not.  I thought this was really odd until I talked to his friend, also named Wes, who said he loved Titanic too.  Maybe it's a guy thing, maybe it's a Wes thing, maybe it's a sick day thing, maybe it's a sick-guy-named-Wes-thing.  The world may never know.  
• I was sick one day and needed to throw up several times in the toilet.  One of those times, I apparently did not get the door clicked shut.  Kenyon opened the door and was able to observe.  This resulted in Kenyon standing in front of the toilet, closing his eyes, grunting/yelling and shaking his head back and forth violently.  As you can tell, I'm pretty attractive when I puke.  
• I wish Kenyon would have put some of this useful puking knowledge to use when it was his turn to get sick.  It was his first time of actually puking and it scared him very badly.  During each episode I would hold him over the bathtub, the sink, the toilet - any large receptacle, and try to point his head downward.  It never failed; each and every time he got ready to puke, he would get scared, point his head towards me and start to say, "Mam---BLAH."  The end result?  We were both covered head to toe in regurgitated bologna, cottage cheese..... you get the drift.  It was not a pleasant evening at our house.  So, for all you mamas to be that think motherhood is glamorous and looks like this:  

http://i.dailymail.co.uk/

Think again.

Not the Nurturing Type, Apparently

I have come to the realization that I would not, in fact, make a good nurse.  Everyone, please contain your gasps of surprise.

I love being a nurturing mother, mostly because it is incredibly simple.  Bang your head on a table corner?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Someone take your toy away?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Super tired?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Upset tummy?  Kiss hug, snuggle.  I am the master.

My mom has been in the hospital following some surgery and I have quickly found that kiss, hug, snuggle is NOT what the doctor ordered for someone who just had open heart surgery.  My bad.  I found myself wetting a cool washcloth to place on her forehead every 30 minutes while she slept the hours away.  It was an incredibly helpless feeling that makes you feel rather worthless.  Never mind the lady laying in the bed a few feet away from me that could barely move or function; I felt completely helpless.

Now Wesley is sick.  Lord, help us all.  He is a gruff man on a good day.  Today, is NOT a good day so this guy is ten steps below a wet cat that can smell food on the other side of a door.  I'm not sure if that entire analogy even makes sense to others, but trust me, it's bad.  He.  Is.  A.  Bear.  He actually came inside today instead of sorting and hauling cattle.  That means he is only 1/2 step away from death.  Trust me, even if kiss, hug, snuggle might work on him, I'm not sure that I would.  (See aforementioned comment about being a bear.)

Please keep our entire family in your prayers - especially the sick husband, the sick momma and the baby that crashed his head into the table corner, had a toy taken away and is super tired.