..and they're not the roof shingles.

When Will called me from the Dr's office this morning and informed me that the pain he had been feeling in his abdomen is a recurrance of a virus called Shingles, after the day I had just had, all I could think was, "why me, why now?" He's had it before, in junior high, and it comes as a result of stress (if it's not the first time you've had it.) I racked my brain to try to discern if there has been any stress in our lives as of late and, yes, I guess some things would qualify. Shingles wouldn't be such a bad thing except for the part where it is CONTAGIOUS. On top of all of the other responsiblities at home, now I have to practically boil my husband's clothes so the nasty germs don't leap onto my infant's pajamas and cause us all to make a middle-of-the-night visit to the ER. (Will wants me to let you know that it is only contagious after the boils burst so he's not completely leprous...) I do feel somewhat sorry for Will. Not only does the virus cause a lot of pain, it produces large boils that can burst at any time and spread the chicken pox to anyone who hasn't already had the joys of itching themselves silly. Poor Will...ok, I'm over the feeling sorry part. No, seriously, I do feel bad but I wish I didn't have so much else to take care of and could take care of him. I think when the boil appears, I'll ship him off to his parent's house. That way I only have 3 kids to wait on hand and foot, not 4.

Back to the beginning of a wonderful week. It started with aches, pains and a fever. After coming to the conclusion (thanks, Amanda!) that it wasn't the flu, I realized that it was something called mastitis (a milk duct clot in the breast) and it was making me feel like crawling into bed and never coming out again. Add to this a total "asleep" time of about 3 hours last night due to a wide awake and gassy baby, my husband's trip to Vegas next week for a work convention that leaves me with 2 noisy and rambunctious toddlers and an infant to take care of by myself, and my parent's trip to Florida that will take them out of the"here, take the kids" range for a week, I think I just might go crazy.

You can understand why I feel, at this crucial juncture, like I'm in the eye of a tornado trying to find my happy place. My mom called this phase "survival mode" and I couldn't agree more. I'm trying to see that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow but I don't think I've found the rainbow yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm still at the point I can laugh about it but I do kind of wonder what God's trying to teach me. Maybe it's that my house doesn't need to be picked up all the time, I don't have to be the world's greatest teacher, cook or cleaner, or maybe that I should lean on Him to see me through the times when all I can do is survive. Having friends that love me for who I am, even if I'm wearing the same clothes I slept in last night, and family that will just let me call and cry, is irreplaceable and such an incredible gift.