Being a mom feels like...

the deep end of a wave pool. Its been one of those weeks. Ayden leaves for a long trip to see his Colorado family on Saturday. He loves it. Gets to go camping, fishing, hiking. Gets to breathe cool fresh Colorado air under blue rocky mountain skies. Gets to eat Big City Burrito. Or not. I'll miss him and if I think too much about missing him and my friends and the air and the food and the friends and the friends and the friends it starts to feel like the waves are going too high. I can't touch bottom. But then Silas takes steps and the waves stop and I rest. Or my husband comes home after 36 hours away and hugs me. rest. Then the phone rings and the hospital asks for too much money before Balins surgery on Monday. Half a paycheck actually in just a matter of days. Not possible. Waves. I start crying on the phone with admissions when she says that all she can offer, waves , but she will leave a message with financial services. Financial services accepts my offer of 200$ and I rest then she calls back and tells me I have four months to pay the rest. Waves. He is having surgery. Waves. But its with the chief of pediatric urology at a hoity toity amazing hospital rest.  I read the first book of Harry Potter to Ayden and read great articles that show Grace and give reason for Christians not only enjoy the books but to love them, rest. One more chapter mommy! Rest. But then Balin wakes up with a stomach virus Tuesday night. Waves. And Ayden wakes up last night with the same. Waves. And the baby has really sad diapers. Waves. Waves Waves. My toes are getting rubbed raw from the bottom of the pool. But rest is near. I just have to reach for it. Balin's surgery is scheduled in the afternoon. Another Wave, but he can eat clear liquids and jello- meaning breakfast! until 9:00 am Monday. Rest. My husband will be home all weekend. rest. My mom is helping with the baby, rest. My dad will be home from Africa a day early, rest.  My savior lives. rest. rest. rest. All is to His glory. rest. rest. rest.

My 1000 gifts this week ( a sampling)
friends so good you still miss them after 9 years
burritos so good you still miss them after 9 years
healthy children
talented doctors
novels that inspire imagination
eternity written our hearts
husbands who want to be home, even when they cant
husbands waking in the middle of the night to prepare bottles
soft boy child hair
chocolate eyes framed in licorice lashes
mothers who baby sit
awkward, tipsy first baby steps
confidence I did not teach
children who forgive
bed piled high with pillows