my kids are sick alot. it makes frequent blog posts. we have toured the local ERs, we have had staples in the head and glued up a gaping chin. we have had breathing treatments and even one extended stay. we even spent four long months in a helmet.
but right now seems like an all time low.
pneumonia.
which isn't nearly as scary as it sounds.
not really.
we aren't in a hospital.
O seems mostly fine.
an icky cough, a nagging fever
but people die from pneumonia.
the damn internet has me convinced that he has some kind of autoimmune disease.
Other than worried mom mode and about 100$ worth of drugs.
It is a normal night in the hurst household.
Shaun went to a movie. (ok, that isn't normal, rather a rare treat)
I worked on some lesson plans and made bottles for the next day.
Tess had a crying jag and then entertained herself with her newfound ability to roll over.
O ran around crazy, destroyed the house and then retired to my bed to watch cartoons.
but I have this constant urge to squeeze him. hug him and hold him and hope that he is ok.
I have this fear in the pit of my stomach.
I want someone to promise me that this will pass.
That it is no big deal. That our turns getting sick this season are over.
but we aren't promised anything. It is all a gift. Every sweet second. I struggle with this. I struggle with the fact that I am not promised a first day of kindergarden or a first date or a high school graduation or a wedding or grandbabies or even tomorrow. Not only do our kids come sans instruction manual but they also come without a warranty.
I want to reassure myself. Tell myself that a good and loving God will make sure he gets better. A good God will protect my son. A good God will keep him safe.
.......but. gulp.
we are not promised safe.
God's good is a much bigger and broader definition than our own.
which is kind of hard to swallow
especially when you are talking about my kid.
my sweet and feverish son.
and also when you are talking about His.
but right now seems like an all time low.
pneumonia.
which isn't nearly as scary as it sounds.
not really.
we aren't in a hospital.
O seems mostly fine.
an icky cough, a nagging fever
but people die from pneumonia.
the damn internet has me convinced that he has some kind of autoimmune disease.
Other than worried mom mode and about 100$ worth of drugs.
It is a normal night in the hurst household.
Shaun went to a movie. (ok, that isn't normal, rather a rare treat)
I worked on some lesson plans and made bottles for the next day.
Tess had a crying jag and then entertained herself with her newfound ability to roll over.
O ran around crazy, destroyed the house and then retired to my bed to watch cartoons.
but I have this constant urge to squeeze him. hug him and hold him and hope that he is ok.
I have this fear in the pit of my stomach.
I want someone to promise me that this will pass.
That it is no big deal. That our turns getting sick this season are over.
but we aren't promised anything. It is all a gift. Every sweet second. I struggle with this. I struggle with the fact that I am not promised a first day of kindergarden or a first date or a high school graduation or a wedding or grandbabies or even tomorrow. Not only do our kids come sans instruction manual but they also come without a warranty.
I want to reassure myself. Tell myself that a good and loving God will make sure he gets better. A good God will protect my son. A good God will keep him safe.
.......but. gulp.
we are not promised safe.
God's good is a much bigger and broader definition than our own.
which is kind of hard to swallow
especially when you are talking about my kid.
my sweet and feverish son.
and also when you are talking about His.
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