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.