I am sitting here…a recurrent theme of the last week or so of my life.
Last Thursday I went in to the hospital for a long-planned laparoscopic ventral hernia repair. (Whew!)
I was well coached on what to expect. Three incisions, bruising around the work area, side effects from anesthesia and pain medication. The procedure went very smoothly, and I was home in a matter of hours, dealing with pain and nausea, but thankful that it was behind me without any major drama or complication.
What doesn’t go smoothly is keeping a mother of five confined to a bed or chair for a week wrapped up in a three-foot-long piece of velcro. I fidget. I fuss. I stare at every pile of unfolded laundry, every cobweb, every dusty fixture and dirty dish. And I start to twitch.
I long to scoop my baby girl up into my arms, to run to the next room to break up a fight, to spend two hours in the kitchen preparing a feast, and yes…I even want to do laundry.
I know that “this too shall pass”…that before I can blink an eye I will be back in full swing, running the show and pulling it all together, finding bandaids for scratches and the doll’s missing shoe, listening to tearful explanations of why it’s “not fair”, chopping and boiling and paring and baking, washing and folding, scrubbing and sweeping.
And until then, I find quiet things to occupy the time, like menu planning and preparing lessons, reading, catching up on correspondence, and yes…watching television. And a small part of me sees the benefit of a forced term of rest. Though plenty fidgety, I am overall less tense. More apt to snag a child passing by for a hug and a chat. Less yelling and shouting (it strains the incisions, you know) and more hushed tones. Appreciative of my husband’s help, thankful for the support of family and friends, humbled by my need for assistance.
In other news, life has paraded forward here in our home despite my negligence in this corner of the internet. Anna has turned one…baby becoming toddler, exploring every corner of the house, tentative steps across the room to the tune of wild cheering and applause (she has quite the audience you know). These last months of babyhood will pass by so swiftly, and I cling to each moment as precious and fleeting.
Faith is now six, as much a firecracker as ever. Our celebration this year was quiet in nature, as the 4th fell two days after our return from a fun and fabulous family vacation at the beach. What with all the ice cream and boardwalk fries, hours of larking in sand and sea, late movie nights and scouring the shops for that one special toy, I felt that we were a little partied-out. So we celebrated our vibrant and affectionate girl with a small, subdued family cookout and some pink, girlie presents.
As I go through my days, ideas for posts drift in and out of my mind, along with reminders to self about calls to return, items to add to the shopping list, projects that need to be done, and so forth. I seek to find balance in all things, including these pages where I attempt to create a nook of thought and beauty, encouragement and grace, and stones of remembrance to mark our days. It’s an outlet for me, creative and emotive, and I enjoy it. However, once I begin to pressure myself to stay on top of those birthday posts or produce X amount of posts per month, this spot of self-expression ceases to be a delight and becomes duty…a chore…a drain on my energy.
So all that to say, it’s quite likely that I will continue to be a sporadic, intermittent blogger. And maybe having said that outright will serve to release me from any pressure I feel and help me to strike that balance in yet another area of my life…the battle that continues to rage here…body, mind and soul.
“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us”
— J.R.R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)