Today was pretty uneventful. My husband came in to say that incase Buddy (our middle child) said he threw up he really had just coughed with water in his mouth. Then N was out the door for work. While helping the older 2 kids get dressed a few minutes later Buddy did, indeed throw up. Water… everywhere, since that is all he had on his stomach at that point. Bella, my oldest, had to know what was happening even though she had just witnessed the entire show from her seat on the bed. Though it was not the elite front row seat you know like the preferred seats at Sea World where after a hot day in the sun you want to be right there in front to get thoroughly drenched. Nope, that was the seat I had been fortunate enough to snag this morning.
Bella began with her line of questioning. It is like a loop that plays all day long with a few alterations depending on the event that has just taken place. You moms will recognize the dialog.
“What did Buddy do?”
“He threw up.”
“Yes, his water.”
“Because he don’t feel good?”
“Yep, I guess he doesn’t feel good.”
“Because his tummy is upset?”
“Yes, Buddy’s tummy is upset.”
“Oh, poor buddy”
She has begun to refer to him by the nickname we often use for her little brother. For some reason it just tugs at my heart to hear her call him that… buddy! The truth is Buddy, at 2 years old, is probably much more Bella’s buddy than he is ours. Sure we are who he runs to kiss the boo boos, or in this case who he aims for when the “chuck” is making it’s way up. But only 12 months and 2 weeks apart these two are pals, and it is a bond we will never attain with either of them.
That was, thankfully the final act of the water show for today. Hopefully all other shows for the week have been cancelled.
I am struck now by my own loop I play on a regular basis with the Lord. It goes something like this.
“So you still expect that I will be able to take care of these precious little children today?”
“Yes, I still trust you with this responsibility.”
“So you think we will be okay, just the five of us, all day. Just kind of winging it, figuring it out together?”
“Yep, so far so good.”
“And you’re sure that you’re not going to need to call in back up, like maybe a nanny, a zookeeper or two, maybe a professional referee that knows the more technical term and hand signal for ripping the toy out of the baby’s hand so that you can claim he put it down of his own free will, making it fair game even though he is now hysterical and toy less?”
“That’s right, just the kids, you and me.”
“Oh, so you are going to stick around today despite my comment yesterday about you thinking it would be funny to give us 3 kids in 3 1⁄2 years after my complaint 10 years ago that I was almost passed my child bearing years when I hadn’t managed to track down a suitable husband by my 18th birthday? See I knew you would see that as funny. I really didn’t mean it to sound disrespectful. Good, okay, so you, the kids and myself today. Yeah, we can do this.”
“Yep, just like I told you when you woke up an hour ago and asked me these same questions.”
“Okay, then we’re going to be just fine.”
I wonder if God ever gets annoyed with these questions asked over and over again or is he simply so caught up in the joy of hearing me call his mystical creation “precious little children” that he doesn’t mind going through the routine of obvious questions and answers just one more time.