Moments this week

It’s been a lovely week for weather in Texas: fall skies, cooler, drier air, and a breeze that always reminds me that we are not alone – and to be grateful for perfect moments.

In other ways, though, this week has had a couple of not-so-perfect moments for our family, as the stomach bug floating around made its way into our home. My sweet kindergartener, who has managed to escape catching these long-lasting bugs her first five years of life, has been bitten – and has been down and out for four days. It’s hard watching her feel so tired, not being able to keep down much of her tiny meals. How I wish I was one who was sick – so I could take hers away.

It was almost two months ago that our baby boy pushed his chair back (with his chunky legs of steel) and hit the ground – resulting in a concussion and a skull fracture. Miraculously, he was running and playing the next day, and thankfully, his young, growing body has allowed his skull to heal with time. I still shudder at the memory - it's a day I'll never forget.

And today, this same more-independent-every-day boy managed to find some allergy medication of daddy’s, which he decided to try for himself (unsupervised), which gave us another scare! I think he was quite proud that he managed to get the pill out of the pouch – but when he saw the worried look on my face, he immediately teared up. Three calls to poison control, one to our pediatrician and a quick (although unnecessary) trip to the ER, and thankfully (thankfully!) he is fine.

When we become parents, we know these moments are part of the package. Going through them, however, with teary eyes, is a different matter! Although I wish we could wrap our children in pillows and face masks around the clock, we can’t. Moments like these remind me that no parent is perfect, we can always be a little more careful, accidents do happen and that we and our children are given new chances every day: new chances to begin again, new chances to thank God for our blessings and new chances to love and squeeze our children even harder than we did the day before.

I'll let a sweet print of mine by Mary Engelbreit finish my thoughts: