The past week has been filled with coughing, breathing treatments, tissues, and cranky attitudes. A certain little fella in this household had the experience of spending more than 3 hours at the doctor's office on his birthday, complete with breathing treatments and a chest xray (his lungs looked good, thankfully). Not the 3rd birthday pictures I had in mind (but yes, I did request copies haha).
On the way home, we stopped and picked up his baby brother and Mamaw and went to the cemetery.
This time, we added Paxton-approved flowers.
After Paxton told me last time that he didn't want the flowers I had put together for Carys, we discussed it and decided that a little family of duckies to represent each of us would be appropriate. So, we went through his duck collection and found a little family of 5 ducks. A mommy duck, daddy duck, and three baby ducks. He played with them a while, then would remind me that we were going to take them to Carys' grave. I added the ducks to some flowers the babies' Mamaw had found (the grass filler has butterflies in it too) and took them to the cemetery. Their Grannie and Papaw had already been there, too, and left a ducky filled with flowers.
Paxton agreed that these flowers were much better. :)
Once we got home, I gave Paxton his antibiotic... and he promptly gagged and threw up. I'd barely been able to get him to eat or drink anything, let alone the medicine, and I was worried he'd get dehydrated and have to go to the hospital. I got him cleaned up and in the bath tub and was trying again... and somehow when I tried to stand up again, somehow I caught my pinky toe on the floor.... and broke it (seriously??? who DOES that?! Who breaks their toe by standing up?!)
Needless to say, that was a breaking point (no pun intended... ha!).
I was obviously missing my girl, tired from being up throughout the night to give breathing treatments or feed the baby, worn down, and hurting. I remembered how I felt the Good Friday after the day the twins were born. "Your spirit is willing but your flesh is weak"
But, you know what? We're still okay. The evening eventually settled down, and even though the week to follow wasn't fun (and even now, I keep pausing for coughing fits that make me feel like I'm going to cough out a lung), the storm is calming.... and we're still okay. I still miss my girl and am homesick for Heaven while finding joy on earth in this house full of boys. I still feel loved by a Heavenly Father, and I still have peace..... and an inhaler. But more importantly, peace. :)
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