In My Shoes

Tired, it's a word I use constantly around here. I am always tired. Can't imagine why... Steven sometimes can't either. I am beginning to think it is his least favorite word in the English language.

So while I have been in pain, holed up in my room, my sweet husband has taken on all parental duties. I have sat here, actually quite content, as long as I had a fresh cup of water, Internet access, and pain meds, I have been doing quite well. I have watched a good amount of TV which, live TV totally sucks, I did not know how much Tivo has spoiled me. I have read a lot, done some word puzzles, and surfed the WWW. And I've listened...

I listened to my husband take charge of our family. He entertained not only our girls, but three of Abby's friends as well on Friday night. This weekend I listened to him fix all the meals, take them on errands, act referee, bathe them, get them dressed in MATCHING clothes, hair brushed (no small task for a man!), play with them and a good number of their friends in the back yard and in the Sac, deal with the daily drama that comes with four girls (it's a lot!), wash some dishes, do some laundry, vacuum up an obscene amount of dog hair, etc... And in the process, take care of little old me. Now he's gotten off a bit as far as homework and extracurricular activities. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better husband, father, nurse these past few days.

But after a weekend of doing what I do, he came into our room last night and said,"Boy, am I tired!"

Ah, sweet music to my ears. And today's only half over...