Best. Valentine's. Ever.

Seems like an ironic title considering the sickness running thru this household. We started Friday morning at the dr.'s office for Doh Doh's 9-month check-up. I knew going in that she had an ear infection, and Bruiser as well. Yep, I was correct. Two kids. Two colds. Two antibiotics. Wrap it up, I'll take it to go! (Thank you, God, for medications. I think this a lot whenever my kids are sick. I don't do meds a lot, but when we need them I spend my nights rocking my babies and praising God for doctors and medicine! I'm not deserving of His provisions, but I am grateful!)

Friday's slight colds turned into intense coughing/hacking with fluids coming out of every facial orifice. For those who have never heard Bruiser's cough, be thankful. We even had him tested a couple of years ago for croup, whooping cough, etc. b/c it sounds DREADFUL. Friday night the boys slept with me...


...which translates into a sleepless night for Momma. Bruiser hacked every 9 seconds. Yes, I counted. He finally relented and allowed Vicks to be smeared on his chest. Vicks Vaporub is an amazing product and works AWESOMELY well when put on feet and then covered with socks.

Bruiser HATES this. And, though I usually don't acquiesce, I relented to avoid his howlings, which in turn intensifies his hacking.

Saturday was a blur. I attempted laundry. It just turned into playtime, as it usually does.


More coughing. More snot. More whining. More crying. And more of the oldest one taking advantage of his younger siblings since they weren't quite up to par. I mean, let's be honest, who wouldn't? (Growl.)

But Saturday night made it all worthwhile. Saturday night I bawled like a baby. Saturday night I bawled like a first time Momma. Saturday night was glorious. Saturday I was covered in vomit. Wait, WHAT?

Ok, not COVERED. But my arm and watch were soaked. Yummy, no?

After FINALLY getting her to bed, I heard Doh Doh an hour or so later. Hacking, wheezing, and gagging. I got her up just in time for her to vomit all over my arm and on her nice, freshly laundered, difficult to remove and put back on, bed sheet. (I guess I forgot to mention she had vomitted the night before in her bed. We just didn't catch it 'til the next morning. Yummy, squared.) So, while I cleaned myself and spot-cleaned the sheet, Daddy rocked her. And then Momma took over. We were in her room, the living room, and then back to her room.


As we sat in the rocker, all cozied together, noses touching, she reached up and put her little chubby hand on my cheek, looked into my eyes, and whispered, "Momma. Momma. Momma."

(Ok, did your heart just skip a beat? Mine sure did. I'll wait for you to grab some Kleenex. Go ahead. I know I needed it.)

And I bawled. I mean hardcore sobbing. I clutched her. We have suspicioned that she had said it before, but we were never sure. But that night without a doubt she said it. It didn't all run together, but she said it slowly. Deliberately.

Oh, thank you, Lord for ALL your many blessings! Thank you for the small things. This is a small thing, in the scheme of life, BUT He knew just what this tired Momma needed. He knew that this little one, who was sick and hurting and needed a Momma, was going to bless her oh-so tired Momma that very night.

After rocking some more, and singing I don't know how many different songs (she loves it when her Momma sings to her...just another one of the Lord's little blessings to me!) I had to come out and tell Daddy. And I bawled.

Again.

I'm emotional like that.

And that's why, despite the fact that we had to cancel our trip to Little Rock Saturday, despite the fact that I had to miss my hair cut appointment and my hair is in desperate need of attention, despite the rough night that night with her again, despite the fussiness and tears on Sunday, despite missing church on Sunday when I so desperately wanted to be there and hear the sermon on Hebrews, despite the sleepless afternoon DD had, despite the oldest child ending his night in tears over "ear" pain, despite the hacking, the fluids, the RED dirty diapers b/c of the antibiotic, despite ALL OF THAT, yesterday was STILL the BEST Valentine's Day ever. Period. Zip.

Bubba picked out my card (everyone needs to ask him to do the "voice" from it) and a present (*grins*) and all the sugars I could hope for AND DD said "Momma. Momma. Momma." Yep, it was a great day.

In fact, it was a pretty good day for everyone.


Especially the choc-o-holics.

So who cares that my house looks like this.


Or that my kitchen looks like this. (I'm just keepin' it real here, folks.)


I have sick kiddos who are getting better. I am blessed beyond recognition. I have the best hubby in the world. AND, b/c of said great hubby, I have a massage gift certificate waiting to be used. Ahhh, thank you, Lord for your MANY - and I do mean MANY - blessings. And provisions. And that this sickness was NOT the flu. (Praising Him in ALL things, right?)