Yesterday I told the kids that I had this great idea of having a party with them after dinner tonight. Just us, playing games, eating yummy food, etc. Then around midnight my stomach started to feel like someone had punched me. I reminded myself that getting sick this week is out of the question, but my body didn't listen. I was up the entire night in a lot of pain. I started throwing up in the morning, but was still able to get the kids out the door a little after 8am for William's first track meet. Turns out we didn't need to be there until 10am since we had registered online. So we came back home and I knelt in prayer begging for strength to get through the day. We headed back to the track meet and William got started with the standing long jump. I thought to myself, "I can do this!" Then we waited almost 3 hours for his next event. Waiting that long is no small feat with 3 busy children, one of them an almost 2-year old. It had been cold in the morning, so everyone had dressed warm and I didn't bring any sunscreen. Well, the sun came out and we were roasting. Poor Will was in sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. By the time his race started he was tired and already sweating. He did great though. He ran the 200 meter dash for the first time. He's always been a distance runner, so sprinting is something he's still working on. By the time he was finished I could tell that I needed to go home. It was a definite feeling that even 5 more minutes would be too much for my tired body. I threw up once while we were there and felt fine for a little while, but it didn't last long enough. I asked William if he wanted me to come back and get him later or ask a friend to bring him home since we had friends who were at the event with their kids. He actually wanted to go home us, I think he was worried about me. I wanted to convince him to stay, but I honestly didn't have the strength. I needed to go. Immediately. I drove home feeling like an absolute failure. I felt badly that Will wouldn't be able to run the 400 meter he was so excited about and had trained for, I had snapped at the younger kids way too much, and I knew the party idea was out the door. I just wanted to sit and cry. I drove home, put Owen in his bed and fell asleep quickly. I was really hoping to wake up feeling like a new person. The kids were hoping for it as well, because they really wanted the party we had planned. I actually felt worse and realized I most likely have a nasty bug that needs to run its course before I'm going to feel any better. So there I was feeling like the worst mom in the world when William came to me, asked how I was feeling and then offered to make dinner. No complaints, just compassion. And I couldn't help but think that maybe I might be doing something right. So tonight I'm trying to remind myself that even though today wasn't ideal, I still have so much to be grateful for and optimistic about. I'm so grateful for my sweet 9-year old who reminded me of that today.
Another thought I had tonight is that everything that happened today might have been for a reason. I've been really stressed lately about whether or not I'm a good enough mom and if my kids are going to end up resenting their childhood because of my weaknesses. I couldn't help but think that Heavenly Father was allowing me to see that I'm doing okay.
Hopefully tomorrow will be much less traumatic for everyone.
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