Hello Friends. Once in a while, I come across something that I feel really can’t wait to be said. I can’t wait for a photo, or wit, or cleverness. This is a miracle we can all help make reality. This is a Mama of eight children, freshly diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. All she wants is a vacation with her family. We can send prayers for strength and health and love, and we can help give her something tangible to build all those things.
Like, say, when the stomach bug could hypothetically be on round five in your house, and maybe you’re burned out from cleaning up stomach bug messes.
Possibly you wake up feeling “off” – even though you might have already had the bug 3 days ago.
Then, perhaps, you realize you are getting a head cold, and your hands are chapped from constant washing.
Maybe you have 15 loads of stomach-bug related laundry to fold, and you haven’t been out of the house in 7 days except for an emergency run to the grocery store.
What if, on top of all that, you forgot to check homework assignments or communication folders and inadvertently missed class party donations for one of your kids.
You just might have a realization that in the fray of a sick house, all your paperwork has slipped and you could have a mini panic attack that there may or may not be bills that have slipped through the cracks over the last week.
Then, the sliding door repair man, that you forgot you scheduled for today, could show up on your front porch, and you could answer the door in your pajamas and try to pull it all off as “lounge wear” – until you notice you are wearing the same sweat pants you have worn through your last three pregnancies – and multiple bathroom bleachings.
What would be really funny is if said repair man was about 250 lbs and afraid of amphibians – like the one your kids let in the house while the doors are wide open.
He could keep repeating how much he hates frogs because they pee on you, and he might start sweating bullets as he tries to “be a man” and catch the creature.
Then, it’s possible that you come to the conclusion that if this frog is going down, it’s going to be you taking care of business.
So you might go get a broomstick and a Tupperware bowl, and through an entirely graceful routine of modified yoga moves and classy floor squirms in your chic pajamas, you could catch that dad-gum disgusting thing and take it out back to release it in the wilds of your suburban back yard. Continue reading →