WHEN THE CHILDREN GET HURT

When your child is an infant, and bangs against something hard, there isn't much you can except hold them close and try to keep them away from the hard thing.

When they begin walking, you let them cry a little and try again.

At least until they begin school, you can kiss a boo-boo and the pain will go away.

Then large boxes of Johnson and Johnson band-aids begin to be stored, and certain bowls, towels, ice packs and Ace bandages, and suddenly the teenager athletic is taking care of their own injuries.

Except I now have animals instead.

Who can't communicate what hurts, where it hurts and/or how much it hurts.

But can still whimper, moan and cry because of the pain.

So you can't kiss it, you can't treat it, and they can't do much of anything on their own except lie on the ground and look miserable.

DID SOMEONE NOTICE?

A couple of things have really cheered me up.

The other evening I came across a Pinterest board concerning mental illnesses, and since I deal with depression a LOT (my husband seriously depressed, even when on meds - my second daughter depressed, even when on SERIOUS meds - my son depressed, and not taking ANY meds for it), I started my own board about depression, and began pinnning various things about it, suicide, assistance, NAMI, etc.

And my other daughter texted me right away - "I just looked at your Pinterest... are you doing okay?? I want to give you a huge hug!"

And yesterday at church, one of our sweet young women, passing me in the hall, said, "Wow, Sister Wiltfong, the color of that sweater is just perfect for you!"

Over the years, I have gotten pretty good at patting myself on the back for things I accomplish, because I don't normally get it from anyone else -- so it IS extra nice when someone DOES notice.

IT'S GETTING BETTER ALL THE TIME

The sun keeps rising.

My dog smiles at me constantly.

My Internet connection continues to be repairable.

The horses whinny when they see me.

My truck runs.


It's getting better, bit by bit.

ONE OF THOSE DAYS

I woke myself up screaming from a nightmare.

I stood and stared at an empty plate for probably 45 seconds, just trying to get myself to pick it up.

I have spoken to my dog more today than normal (and I talk to her a LOT normally).

I have had a raging headache all day from the high pressure weather system that is attacking my home with savage winds.



I ordered a double chocolate frappucino today at Starbucks while waiting for my brother to do his grocery shopping - and accidentally drank part of a caramel macchiato before I realized it was NOT what I ordered.

(For those of you who don't know many Mormons, this is equivalent to an Orthodox Jew eating a pork chop)




And now I have someone coming over tomorrow at the literal break of dawn AND I'M NOT SLEEPY.




Okay, now I feel slightly better.

NOT THE CORRECT DAY AT ALL

Murphy's Law is defined as follows:

"Anything that can possibly go wrong, does."

Today, I woke up inspired to begin a healthier lifestyle.

I created a nice little poster yesterday to remind me to drink a bottle of water first when I felt hungry -- to recognize when I am bored instead of hungry -- cut back drastically on my Diet Coke habit -- and to save the chocolate for only special moments instead of constantly.

So what happened today?

I ate a healthy, reasonable breakfast, with TWO bottles of water.

But I forgot to take my medications until right before I have to drive into town at 9:20 a.m.

So I took them then.

And began to get sick-to-my-stomach on the drive in.

For those of you who do not know where I live,  my home is between the middle of No and Where. There is NOTHING close by. You cannot just run out to get a gallon of milk or a tank of gas -- for heaven's sake, the stupid MAIL box is almost two miles away.

So the only choice for any type of food/Pepto-Bismol/Alka-Seltzer is one lonely convenience store about half-way between home and the closest city limits.

Since the alternative was pulling over to the side of the road to vomit, I stopped there.

And as most if not all convenience stores, the chose of any sort of 'healthy' food is seriously, seriously limited.

So I got a slice of pizza.

Really, it was that, Twinkies or chewing tobacco.

STRIKE ONE.

Then for lunch, my second daughter, Joy, suggested going to Subway, which is where I normally get a healthy veggie sandwich.

And, er, yeah, THREE of their freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

STRIKE TWO.

Then my husband, who has finally caught on to the fact that I am not incredibly happy with him at the moment, surprised me by bringing how for dinner my FAVORITE meal - pizza.

With an extra order of bread-sticks.

STRIKE THREE AND YOU ARE OUT.








Oh, well, tomorrow is another day.



Isn't it?