We just completed what can only be refered to as the worst week. The worst week in a long, long time. It included an obscene amount of sick baby, laundry, hospital, dehydration, exhaustion, birthdays (two of them!), and just overall worstness. The worst of the worstness. We were hit by it.
And it hurt.
But there was some good that came out of it. Focus on the good.
- When, in a pity party puddle of worstness, your husband reminds you that you’re in it together. You’re a team. And when two of the three team members are down for the count, the third one picks up the slack (he didn’t even complain…well…not to me at least…I imagine he did to others…but man…).
- When same husband lets you get takeout soup for your birthday dinner just because all you want for your birthday dinner is takeout soup.
- And again, when same husband tells you to get out of the house, go to yoga, take a hour for yourself.
- And then yoga teacher reminds you that when life hands you a pile of worstness, to just breathe. Inhale, exhale, move on, celebrate, because…
- The final load of sick week laundry. Washed on the heavy cycle in hot water. Clean, dry, folded, DONE.
- The floors are mopped (by the husband). HE MOPPED THE FLOORS.
- The reminder of what was meant when we said we are in it for the long haul. To pick each other up when one (or two) are down. To remind your partner to take a break. To practice patience. To show love when all you want to do it run away, far, far away, from the sick ward that is – was! – your living room, but instead you turned towards us, hugged us, and reminded us that we were getting better minute by minute.
- And the final good of the week? That minute, on my birthday, when I realized that yes, a beer sounded delightful, so I drank one and rang in 33 in hopes that the worst week was, in fact, over, and we were on to bigger and brighter days for the rest of our year.
Onward to those bigger and brighter days, and so long to the worst week. Please don’t visit again soon.