It’s been a weird week around here. Like, really weird. The kind that has me thinking about full moons and shifting tides though I don’t believe in any of that.
It all started with a single rodent making his way in through an open window. What followed was a battle of epic proportions. My husband won. *swoon*
It moved right along with my little runner extraordinaire fully unable to finish his last run of the cross country season because he had such a devastating pain in his stomach. This nearly killed him. Not being able to finish the race, I mean. Not the stomach pain. That subsided relatively quickly. He had come fourth out of about 60 kids at his previous race and now, 7 minutes in, he had to turn back. Ruined. Defeated. I’m not even coming down for dinner so you might as well bring it up to my bed, kinda devastated. It sucks to watch your kids fall. To see them hurting.
What came next in our oddities was me breaking my toe. No good story. Just foot met chair and snap. I’ve had to pop it back into place 3 different times cause every time I tried to walk it would snap out. (too much information?!) I feel pretty hardcore about that. But now that my toe and 1/3 of my foot are purple and black and I have to hobble to do anything? Well, I realize I’m just a whiney wimp.
Then we had a doctor’s appointment with our little gluten intolerant boy and we were hoping to close some sort of chapter on his allergies. Yes! He is allergic to X, Y and Z is what we were hoping for. Instead we got, Yes! He is allergic to something! Quite severely! We have no idea what! We need to take more of your blood. Is that okay?
Did I mention this is my one child that is terrified of needles? He burst into tears right there in the office. He couldn’t even hold it in. He was hoping that today he would have answers and all he found out is that they want to poke him a bunch more times. Welcome to our medical system, little buddy.
This brings us to today. Friday. Otherwise known as Phoenix’s barf day. What? You don’t have a barf day in your house? Lucky!
This has happened twice before. It seems that my little man’s stresses and anxieties and fear of change or losing control all come to a head on Friday. It happened first when his beloved Grandpa was in the hospital and we knew that he wasn’t coming home. He would barf every Friday. At the time I had no idea why this was happening. I thought he had the flu. Then food allergies. Then an eating disorder that only happened pre-weekend. But all tests and doctors showed that none of these were true. He had stress. Stress ties his little tummy into knots. These knots make him barf. On Friday. Always and only on Friday.
It happened again when his best friends (and cousins) moved to Ireland.
It’s happening again. 2 weeks in a row now. Friday. But there is nothing interesting or exciting going on in our lives. So I have no clue.
There’s been a few others that are more personal and I won’t share them here but believe me when I say it’s been let down after let down. It’s left us all, at different times throughout the week, feeling things like hurt, frustration, disappointment.
I admit to considering that I might feel a bit like Job. But then I realize I’m ridiculous because he had everything taken. We’ve just been a bit bummed out. Microscopically burdened in comparison.
This weekend is Thanksgiving. We talk about being thankful for what God has given us all the time but this weekend there is always an emphasis. I can’t help but think that we’ve had this kind of week as some sort of lesson. I feel God saying are you thankful now? What about now? Still now? What about now that you can hardly walk? What about when you see your child hurting? What about when it feels like everything is going wrong?
I’m starting a list. Stay tuned.