Last night at one in the morning, I climbed the stairs carrying one tent plus tent fly, two tent poles, one blanket, two stuffed animals, one baby monitor and a baby monitor cord that had come detached from the monitor, one Jack and one sippy cup. Let me just tell you that is a lot of stuff to carry. But, let me back track and give you the whole story. Just after I finished my last post (see below), I heard JG screaming upstairs. Not crying, SCREAMING. I immediately knew he was either hurt or something was wrong. I ran through the house and up the 17 stairs so fast, my heart racing as I anticipated what could have possibly harmed him in his safe bed. I walked into his room and was overwhelmed by the smell of vomit. My sweet boy had puked all over himself, happy the hippo, his blanket, sheet, mattress, etc, and had also proceeded to smear it all over his face and hair and in one of his eyes. So, we cleaned up the packnplay and slept (some) in the tent set up in my room last night.
But, I am so thankful. Really, God was gracious last night to remind me of how much I have to be thankful for in the midst of the crazy. So many little things that ultimately don't matter in the big picture of God's creation and redemptive plan, but somehow they matter to me and He loves me. And God knows me. He knows I'm a wimp when it comes to hardship. JG has not vomitted again, but we are both pretty tired today.
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