Coming Out of the Fog

All you have to do to find out how loved you are is become ill or injured. In the last few days I have been shown more kindness than I knew I deserved. My sister has become surrogate mother to my kids (waaaay more fun than me, though!), my husband has become "Nurse Zane", as Eliza made official with his name tag, and arranges ice packs like a pro. I have been brought dinner by every Mormon woman in a five mile radius; People magazine, soda and chocolate by a dear friend who knows me too well and have had friends shuttle my kids around and make sure they got home from activities that I forgot they went to (how long can I get by with blaming flakiness on anesthesia??)

So back to normal now, with a slight limp. I think my household will tolerate me lying in bed only so many days before rebelling. Our house sprung (sprang??) three different leaks yesterday. Yep, I said three. One from too much rain and not enough gutters, one from a leaky kitchen faucet that ended up in my son's basement bedroom (the subsequent water, not the faucet) and one from a hairclip going down the bathroom sink and Zane having to disassemble the pipes to get it out. (I think if the more serious two had manifested themselves first, the hairclip would have been excused and laid to rest in the pipe.)

Maybe I should say four leaks. Wilson tripped running up the stairs last night and broke his fall with his nose. Unless you are a seasoned ER nurse, I'm going to say that you've never seen so much blood in your whole life.

So thank you to everyone who has helped me over this little blip. I so appreciate it!