I wrote about my key incident a few weeks ago, and said one of the lessons I learned from it was asking for help.
Little did I know that minor emergency was the start to a month that would teach me exactly how much help I take for granted ... from my husband.
It started with Jim getting his annual sinus infection. It strikes at different times of the year, typically in the winter, and when it does, it's brutal. This year was particularly bad. He lived on the couch in between teaching and musical practice, drinking lots of water and spending time with his new best friend, Sudafed.
{A caveat: A lot of people don't understand what it means to be the head teacher at a rural Lutheran school. Frankly, a lot of people don't understand what it means to be a teacher anywhere. So, for your information, here's a typical day for Jim: Prepare and teach lessons in all subjects, excluding religion, for grades 1-7 (usually between 30-40 lessons per day); oversee lunch/recess/chores; perform administrative tasks as needed — completing forms, answering phone calls, sorting mail for the church and school, etc.; perform custodial/nursing/disciplinary tasks as needed; grade papers; talk with parents after school; transport students after school. Non-daily activities include directing a school musical, coaching volleyball and basketball, coordinating/hosting activities with area Lutheran schools and attending school board, church council, voters' and PTL meetings. So ... dealing with that kind of workload with a debilitating headache is not so much fun.}
I do most of the day-to-day household and child care tasks around the house, but it's a lot different to do them without backup. While Jim concentrated on keeping himself functional, I realized just how much he does help out.
Eventually, his sinus infection turned into a cold, which then progressed to a fever and body aches. He ended up calling a substitute for a day of school, something he rarely ever does, and spent a weekend getting better.
In the meantime, our 17-month-old daughter started having a runny nose and a cough that kept her {and me} up at night. After she developed a rash and a low-grade fever, I took her to our pediatrician to find out she had an ear infection. Though I hated to see her feeling yucky, there is one major perk to caring for a sick toddler: She wanted to spend all her time in my arms. I haven't had that much cuddling from Evangeline since she was a newborn. I even got out the baby backpack so I could get some work done while I stayed home with her {not the easiest thing to balance over a pregnant belly!}.
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| Poor bunny! Happily, you're feeling much better now! |
As Evangeline's antibiotic kicked in, I began to feel hopeful we would maybe — finally — be out of the woods. I had a morning-long community theatre meeting on Saturday, during which Jim felt well enough to stay home with Evangeline. That night, we made plans to go to a pancake breakfast in the morning before church. Well. Sunday morning dawned bright and early. Evangeline and I got ready and played as Jim went about his morning routine. After he didn't come out of the bathroom for thirty minutes, I started to get worried.
I'll spare you the gory details, but it turned out my husband had eaten bad eggs for lunch on Saturday, effectively giving himself a nasty bout of food poisoning. I spent the rest of the day fetching popsicles for Jim and cleaning up antibiotic-induced poopy diapers from Evangeline.
It's been a week since then, and thankfully both my beloveds are doing well and seem like their usual, energetic selves. In addition to their health, I'm thankful for:
• An easy pregnancy — if I was dealing with my own nausea or back pain, it would have been even more difficult to nurse my family
• Clorox wipes, Kleenex and hand sanitizer
• Netflix {for Veggie Tales, Psych and MythBusters to appease every taste in our household!}
• A husband who is a true partner in our parenting adventure
• A daughter who is normally blessed with good health – this was the first time she's really been sick in her life and comparatively, this was mild
The next time I'm tempted to grumble about how I think Jim could be helping more, I'll try to remember how stressful the past month was, how alone and exhausted I felt ... and how nice it is to know he IS there to help.
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