Heaven Help Us

Heaven help us when the little ones get sick.

All I want to do is cradle them, wrap them up tight, all swaddled up, like I did when they were so tiny and fragile. I want to hold them and rock them until it’s all better.

It’s hard to do that when they are bigger, have opinions, are the grumpy sort of sick people, and are all arms and legs that don’t fit so well into a receiving blanket.

And heaven help us when they get the sort of sick that includes the throwing up piece; it’s enough just to not gag myself and be valiantly calm and caring without holding my nose.

 

 

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Five Minute Friday – Brave

Here we go again–Five Minute Friday challenge, this time, on Friday!  I know! What a concept.

Oh, life. Today’s it’s working in my favor, but that’s no guarantee for tomorrow, is it? If life really came with some sort of insurance and re-assurance, that would be wonderful.  But perhaps we wouldn’t grow so much, and that’s the beauty in things that don’t go as we planned. But that’s another post in itself, I think.

So moving on…

For a reminder-it’s a weekly writing “game”  from my bloggy friend Lisa-Jo Baker, who blogs (and writes heart-breakingly, beautiful words and stories) at http://lisajobaker.com/

So, here’s the challenge, should you accept it: you write for 5 minutes with freedom like you have no fear or shame.  Or propensity for run-on sentences, like I do.  Pretend those don’t exist or don’t matter. (Ha!) And then you have to be brave (or at least pretend to be) and link up to her blog. Encouraging the writer who links up before you is part of the deal, too.  This last rule is crucial, as we all need to encourage others. Why encourage another writer? Because at one point or another in our lives, we all need encouraging too.

Each week is a new word, a new thought starter, and you have 5 minutes to write….and are you ready? go-

 Brave

 

thanks to imagerymajestic for the image.
thanks to imagerymajestic for the image.

Being brave is something that I am currently doing, sitting here, amongst the dishes still spread all haphazardly and left out from a good dinner, while my daughter cries and throws a fit because she did not get her way as to who she wants to bathe her.

Being brave is being comfortable in knowing that my husband has it under control, and that eventually, she will have it under control one day too because her mother did not always run to rescue her every single time she didn’t get her way during her toddler years.  Being brave is admitting this all to you too, to let you in on the parenting styles we so fiercely judge each other over.

I pray for my children daily, for bravery, courage, that the are the ones holding hands with the others, the ones that feel like they are weak or less for some reason. I pray that my children are the ones that hold onto those people and other children so strongly, like a giant red rover line, that they clasp each other so tightly that nothing, I mean nothing can break that chain of fierce love, protection, and community.

If you must know, I also pray a very human prayer, that, in the end, if not in the beginning (and all the way through, a selfish parent prayer) that my children are thick as thieves, that sibling rivalry is just something of an afterthought.

And in that end, I pray for bravery for me too, my husband, the other parents, as raising children is in itself, some days, is a big, heaping act of bravery.