As of today when I’m writing this…
I don’t think I’ve really seen another adult besides my husband since Monday.
We’ve been battling a fever-flu-bug-yuck-virus that has cycled its way through our family.
Today is Day #10.
On Monday night, our youngest came down with a really high fever, was throwing up, seemed absolutely exhausted and so we put her to bed, tucked her in, and watched as she quickly snuggled in for the night.
About 20 minutes later, we heard some chaos upstairs and ran up to check on her.
(her big sister was just across the hall and didn’t hear her),
Climbed out of her bed.
Left her room.
Entered her brothers’ room.
Found their candy stash.
Consumed their candy stash.
Found her oldest brother’s oil paints.
Used his oil paints to decorate the carpet.
Kinda like frosting on a cake.
She hasn’t done something like this in almost a year.
And it was honestly discouraging.
I was tired.
And tired of cleaning up throw-up and tired of cooped-up-inside-with-sick-people and…
But the really discouraging part was seeing her choose to do something she absolutely knew was wrong.
And there are those days as a parent,
And even just as a person,
Because I do it myself.
Where the wrong is chosen–
And it’s on those days that we need to remember that the story isn’t over.
God is the author of this story…
He’s still writing,
I’m sharing today over at The Better Mom…
I’d love it if you would stop by to say hi.
Did I mention that I need a little time with some-people-who-are-not-throwing-up ?
Am I sounding desperate?
I am serious.
Someone come say hi.
And please bring more Lysol wipes.