"Do Unto Others...."

After weeks of passing a cold between them, Tate and Drue decided to pass it along to....ME! Colds normally don't phase me too much but this one knocked me on my (still larger than I'd like) patootie Saturday. I left for a Girls Night Out at the Cheesecake Factory Friday night and gave David a quick peck on the cheek because I told him I felt like I was coming down with something. My colds are so predictable....they always start with that cruddy feeling right in that little space between where my knobby collarbones almost meet.

That night, I hacked a lot and sort of felt bad thinking I was keeping David up. I woke up the next morning sounding like an old man who had smoked a pack a day for 50 years. After I'd been up about 30 minutes, David finally made the observation that I sounded sick. (I resisted the urge to jump up and down on the couch screaming "NEWSFLASH!". I just didn't have the energy). Instead I said, "Um....yeah, I coughed all night long." "You did?", he asked. So much for worrying about my poor husband not getting any sleep.

We ran errands and went about our day but by 7:30 that night I collapsed in the bed. I felt like I'd been pulled through the wringer, hung out to dry, but had somehow fallen from the clothesline and been run over by a Mack Truck.....yet I wasn't sleepy. Reese came up in a bit and watched TV with me in the bed until we both fell asleep. At one point I looked over and she was staring at me. "What?", I asked. "Mommy, I think you look pretty." Then she added, "Even though Daddy doesn't think you look good like that, I think you look pretty." (She was referring to earlier in the day when David commented that I looked "awful".)

During my "downtime" this weekend, David picked up the living room multiple times, picked up the girls' room, loaded and unloaded the dishes all weekend, made supper, and even did a few loads of laundry complete with folding and putting away the clothes. My first instinct was to say "Thank you, Sweetheart".....but I stubbornly held myself back because, normally, I do those things around the house EVERYDAY without getting a thank you. (Note: Obviously I have been a mother long enough to know it is mostly a "thankless" job filled with silent sacrifices, so I don't go about my day expecting to get thanked, but it would be an added bonus every once in a while.)

So today as I mulled over our weekend and would start to feel bad for poor David because I never thanked him for taking care of the household stuff, I would remind myself, again, that nobody thanks me when I do it. But then this thought popped into my head....."And how many times have you thanked David for working so hard at his job, never slacking off or calling in sick when he wasn't, working so diligently that he's gotten numerous promotions since starting there, all so he could support this family and make it possible for you to stay home with the kids 3 days a week?". Ouch.

Yesterday our Sunday School lesson was about the Golden Rule. Yes, the same Golden Rule that we are trying so desperately to teach our 2 and 4 year old. Basic good behavior. Then we got to talking about how our spouses were actually the easiest people in our lives to get angry with, the easiest ones to get annoyed by, etc. because we feel safe around them and know that they will still love us tomorrow. Double ouch.

While I'm not going to unrealistically declare right here and now that I will never again take the husband God gave me for granted.....I do at least want to say THANK YOU, David for all that you are and all that you do for this family. We appreciate you more than you know. And if the girls' bedtimes and schedules get thrown out the window (once in awhile) because you are spending time reading them one more story after a long day at the lab.....I will try and silently go about gathering up all the crusty rags from the bathtub and throwing away the wet diapers that somehow haven't made it down to the trash yet. WE LOVE YOU!