Sometimes in life, everything goes according to plan – that is the first plan you make, without a hitch. Other times, Mr. Murphy himself seems determined to work against all of your plans. Over the past year, we’ve had a large share of the latter. Over the last week, Mr. Murphy completely moved in… Okay, we still have it pretty good, better than many people out there, but it’s been a doozy for us.
I finally talked to my doctor about a concern I had. He referred me for an ultrasound then immediately to a surgeon. Umbilical hernia, likely caused during my pregnancy with Madilynn, three years ago. In planning for the surgery, my dad planned to come and help with the kids and Peter planned to use a free day off to stay with me and drive me to and from surgery. What really happened: Peter had to appear in court when I was rolled back to surgery. We arranged for a rotation of helpful sitters in the form of our preacher’s teenage daughters. The kids developed some kind of cold, the pinnacle of this being Dietrich throwing up this evening before supper. Thankfully, one of those teenagers was here to help clean up the mess. Madilynn really has a hard time understanding that I can’t pick her up yet. Every day she asks, “Much better, Mommy?” and reminds me to “just breathe” like Doc McStuffins tells her patients.
Going into the weekend, Peter will be on call, but there is also a fall festival at the church building. Maybe Mr. Murphy can move out by then. The good news is I’m healing well, taking it easy, and enjoying all the extra help.