Last night our son-in-law came over to set up a new wireless printer for me. Could have done it myself, but wouldn't have been easy; and besides it was a chance to see the grandkids for an evening.
In order to get the house quieter though while he worked, our daughter took her dad somewhere so it was just the kids and I in the house. Believe me, it was an even trade-off. Two little girls for one big man/child.
The noise factor from the girls was kept confined to the hallway where they ran back and forth with Superman-style capes (really small blankets), trying to run fast enough to make the capes lift like parachutes.
It reminded me of a report I got from our daughter after a recent store trip she had with her dad. She said he challenged someone else riding in a department store power-chair to race him. So believe it or not, they both raced their "buggies" from one end of the store to the other to see whose cart was fastest.
Life itself is a race. Sometimes I feel like retiring my track shoes, but the people around me indicate that I'd better stay in the race awhile longer. God isn't through with this caregiver yet. And I'd better do all I can to stay fit in order to keep up with the team.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Monday, February 16, 2015
Valentine's Day Sleepover Interruption
What a joyous Valentine's Day we had this weekend! Just like Christmas being about the children, we were blessed with more time with our two adorable granddaughters coming over for a "sleepover". I'm sure their parents didn't mind another "date-night" on their schedule as well.
We try to space these events every few months, mostly because it isn't easy for me to juggle the care of an active preschooler and a first grader, and a sometimes-immature, well alot-of-times, immature old man.
The last thing I told him before we went to sleep was to be sure and let the girls sleep (they prefer camping out on the living room floor) and not get them up for Sunday pancakes too soon. Dean has been mysteriously waking up in the wee hours of the morning a lot, and I was hoping for once he would stay in bed and not pursue his word-search puzzles and solitaire out on the dining room table--just a stone's throw from where they'd be sleeping.
After finally getting them to sleep by ten o'clock, I was not pleased to wake up at about four and hear three voices coming from the other end of the house. Dean had been up since three, he said, and decided it was time for pancakes. The kitchen sounds and smells must have wakened the girls, who had declined the pancake invitation, saying they'd rather wait for grandma.
I tried to remain calm, thankful for the few hours of sleep I had just had, but doubtful if any more were coming. I hurried the girls into my big bed to encourage them back to sleep, and gave strict orders to the man in my life to sleep in his recliner (which he does half the time anyway) if he needed to.
All was not lost; the girls did drift back to sleep to the sounds of grandma's oxygen concentrator, but the same sleep escaped me for the moment, to be substituted for a nice nap the next day.
Dean remained on his own turf in the living room. But I felt compelled to check the stove a couple of times, just to assure that his pancakes were cooked appropriately. One black one left on a plate did not make me feel comfortable about his turning the stove off when he was done.
There have been many times in my own life that I'm sure I overlooked God's final instructions for me, leading to various degrees of crises He's had to see me through. How gracious and patient God is to "check up" on me as well.
I try to comfort myself with the thought that no matter how much turbulence I experience in my flight to heaven, God is the pilot, seatbelt, and flight attendant, overseeing reaching my final destination on schedule. What a great Caregiver He is!
We try to space these events every few months, mostly because it isn't easy for me to juggle the care of an active preschooler and a first grader, and a sometimes-immature, well alot-of-times, immature old man.
The last thing I told him before we went to sleep was to be sure and let the girls sleep (they prefer camping out on the living room floor) and not get them up for Sunday pancakes too soon. Dean has been mysteriously waking up in the wee hours of the morning a lot, and I was hoping for once he would stay in bed and not pursue his word-search puzzles and solitaire out on the dining room table--just a stone's throw from where they'd be sleeping.
After finally getting them to sleep by ten o'clock, I was not pleased to wake up at about four and hear three voices coming from the other end of the house. Dean had been up since three, he said, and decided it was time for pancakes. The kitchen sounds and smells must have wakened the girls, who had declined the pancake invitation, saying they'd rather wait for grandma.
I tried to remain calm, thankful for the few hours of sleep I had just had, but doubtful if any more were coming. I hurried the girls into my big bed to encourage them back to sleep, and gave strict orders to the man in my life to sleep in his recliner (which he does half the time anyway) if he needed to.
All was not lost; the girls did drift back to sleep to the sounds of grandma's oxygen concentrator, but the same sleep escaped me for the moment, to be substituted for a nice nap the next day.
Dean remained on his own turf in the living room. But I felt compelled to check the stove a couple of times, just to assure that his pancakes were cooked appropriately. One black one left on a plate did not make me feel comfortable about his turning the stove off when he was done.
There have been many times in my own life that I'm sure I overlooked God's final instructions for me, leading to various degrees of crises He's had to see me through. How gracious and patient God is to "check up" on me as well.
I try to comfort myself with the thought that no matter how much turbulence I experience in my flight to heaven, God is the pilot, seatbelt, and flight attendant, overseeing reaching my final destination on schedule. What a great Caregiver He is!
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
The Ultimate Snow Day
Everyone looks forward to a "snow day" now and then when schools and jobs implore you to stay home and be safe from the frigid weather. We had one again this week, and I must say it was a welcome but brief reprieve from our daily routine. As we tend to linger in bed a bit longer in the morning, we have mental images of lounging by a warm fire and sipping on hot chocolate all day.
However, I found myself rescheduling appointments and finding out when the next meeting that was cancelled might reconvene. And most annoying was that the same caregiving tasks needed to be done, leaving me little time to even make that hot chocolate, let alone sip on it.
I'm sure even schoolchildren were disappointed to discover that their school assignments were not overlooked that day, but squeezed tightly into their already heavy schedules.
This has left me with a new appreciation of heaven. When the Lord declares a "snow day" up there (and I have a hunch it might be about every seventh day--Isaiah 66:23), we will truly have a rest and a reprieve from all the normal, but pleasant, duties that await us in our new home. Praise to God for designing and declaring the ultimate "snow day".
However, I found myself rescheduling appointments and finding out when the next meeting that was cancelled might reconvene. And most annoying was that the same caregiving tasks needed to be done, leaving me little time to even make that hot chocolate, let alone sip on it.
I'm sure even schoolchildren were disappointed to discover that their school assignments were not overlooked that day, but squeezed tightly into their already heavy schedules.
This has left me with a new appreciation of heaven. When the Lord declares a "snow day" up there (and I have a hunch it might be about every seventh day--Isaiah 66:23), we will truly have a rest and a reprieve from all the normal, but pleasant, duties that await us in our new home. Praise to God for designing and declaring the ultimate "snow day".
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