I'm in such a weird mood these last few days. I think I'm just kind of tired and need a little bit of a kick start, but for now I'm just staying lazy and careless. I don't want to take phone calls, I don't want to cook, I don't want to plan, I don't want to walk, I don't even want to eat, I don't want to get groceries. I just want to be.
I guess it's a little bit of depression from some of the many things going on right now. I won't go into the details as yet, as they are not all mine to explain, but I am tired and I'm not getting enough sleep or exercise. We're all fine. No one is dying or anything, just a lot of decisions to be made. There. Did I peak everyone's interest?
I did get Keva up, bathed and dressed this morning just in the nick of time, though. If I had waited just a few minutes longer, diarrhea would have been everywhere. She's still suffering the last bits of this flu that we've all had. And it doesn't look very pretty and it doesn't smell very pretty. Let's just say that I will never look at guacamole the same way again after this particular bout.
Later, with a load of wash on "sanitary", I was writing in the living room, enjoying the quiet with the little boys off to play at their friends, Keri Lynn on a walk, Kristofer at the church learning how to operate the camera equipment, Kylie with a friend on a family outing, Kathleen off playing with friends . . . when I hear Keva giggling loud enough to beat the band.
I looked across to the family room to see her avidly watching Teletubbies. She was giggling so hard that I had to go get the camera. Keva watching her favorite show. Too cute. The pictures don't do it justice. You had to have been there to hear her.
It is times like these that are my reward for Keva, when she lights up at things and brings joy to life. When people first meet her, there are always the inevitable first questions as they try to understand who she is. I generally am happy to answer these questions, especially from little kids, but it's hard for a lot of people to understand the blessings that she brings to our family. Each blessing, seemingly small when compared to a blessing of a normal child, gets socked away in our hearts with compound interest.
For example, a few nights ago at bedtime, I went into Keva's room to once again turn off her lights. Each night, it's the same thing, ever since she figured out how to turn the light switch off and on. I'd tuck her in, give her a special prayer and turn off the lights and shut the door. Every single time I'd walk by her room after that, the light would be on again. I'd peak in at her and there she'd be in her bed sound asleep, blankets askew. Then, I'd tuck her in again and turn off the light for the final time.
Two days ago, not only had she turned her lights back on, but she'd brought both pillow and blanket to the foot of her door to camp out. Her head was completely on her pillow and her blanket completely on her -- ALL BY HERSELF! Do you understand how much logical comprehension and coordination that takes to take two objects such as pillow and blanket to another location and put one's self to bed? I squealed for Keith and Keri Lynn, who were chatting in the other room, to come and see, and they were equally impressed with Keva's prowess!
Then, another time, I asked Keva to give me a hug. It's always the same thing. I ask. She stands there. I lift her arms around my neck and I give her a big squeeze. She usually laughs and enjoys the hug but never participates. This time, I asked for a hug and she came over wrapped her arms around me and gave me a hug. I was stunned.
"Keva! You gave me a hug! I'm so proud of you!"
I then announced it to everyone else. Kids shrugged. Keith wasn't home to lend me the full appreciation I needed from a parent! But it was a huge joy none the less!
Ann Furedi's Consistent Views [Clinton Wilcox]
2 hours ago