Jevy started throwing up this afternoon. And then he threw up again, and again, and again. I rinsed off the sheets in the sink, as, in the moment, I could think of no where else to do so.
I, then, cleverly ran the disposal and sanitized the sink.
I, then, noticed the pipes were plugged.
I put Jevy back into bed (where he proceeded to vomit again).
(Mind you, George is out of town because there's never a shortage of adventures whilst single parenting - it's when all the fun happens!)
I snaked the pipes. I was now covered in vomit AND sewage.These past few weeks, as the crazies piled up, I've kept thinking I reached the end of what I could bear, and I was (unpleasantly) surprised.
I continued snaking the pipes and it started dripping into my hair.
I shouted at God, and said "I'm going to consider this an honor! You've got to be preparing me for something or this doesn't make sense! At. All!" I was yelling, but somehow I feel He was not alarmed.
Jevy threw up again.
I showered with hope.
Jevy threw up again.
I didn't shower - I smell like vomit. Get over it.
Suffering, even in it's minor form (as above), feels out of place and unfair. When we step away from it or look with a glance at the suffering of others around us, we might find ourselves less surprised (thought perhaps still horrified) that suffering exists and plagues us. It's always easier to break it down and try to "understand it" when we're looking from a distance, no matter how much we care, feel empathy, or find our hearts breaking over the suffering of others. It may still seem incredibly unfair, but it doesn't overwhelm us and threaten our fragile psyche. Then, we ourselves face suffering (because life is full of it and not one is spared it's touch, in some way or another) and the very real questions start to be asked and evidence of a world falling so short of what it should be is what we find. As I scraped the goo off my eyelids tonight, I felt so ashamed. I was wallowing (kind of literally, in this case) in my (relatively minor) suffering in that moment and feeling a shortage in my capacity to "handle it". I reticently trust and accept that these small moments of absurdity are useful and are giving strength, perspective, compassion and humility.
Oh sweetheart, my heart is with you. You are such a good mama!!!!!
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