Mother's (and Grandma's) day

When I was little this poem hung on my wall. It was a gift from my grandmother. Sitting on this side of childhood, it makes me teary and miss my grandma with a powerful ache. Today I give it back to the next generation of grandmothers, who have raised their children and are helping their children to raise children. Happy Mother's Day Oma and Grandma!

I Like To Walk With Grandma

I like to walk with grandma,

Her steps are short like mine.

She doesn't say "Now hurry up!"

She always takes her time.

I like to walk with Grandma,

Her eyes see things mine do...

Wee pebbles bright,

A funny cloud,

Half-hidden drop of dew.

Most people have to hurry,

They do not stop to see...

I'm glad that God made Grandma,

Unrushed and young, like me.

~Author Unknown~

I should have known

Yesterday morning I got to work and I was struck by a love for my job. I loved everything about it, the kids, the passion, the other people I teach with! I even sent a text message to Pat telling him how fantastic my job is.

I should have known.

Less than twenty minutes later I was on the phone calling the office to have Mrs. Smithson send the janitor to our classroom to clean up projectile vomit (we're talking a 5 foot range people!). By the end of my day I had three seven-year-old girls in attention-seeking, drama-spewing apoplectic tears.

I should have known.

I got home and started dinner. And as I came out of the kitchen to inquire about some dinner thing or other I watched my husband stand on the hearth to squish a spider on the ceiling. I watched the spider (presumably dead) fall in his face and, as if in slow motion, I watched him fall, not catch himself, topple into a box fan, a TV table and then final land on his side in a groaning heap.

Within an hour, he was in urgent care with his dad (I had to put Wiggles to bed). Another half hour and the doctors at urgent care had called for an ambulance and another half hour after that he was strapped to a backboard with his head in a vice, headed to the hospital and my father-in-law had come and given me the car so I could head to the hospital to join him.

Pat spent nearly five hours strapped to that backboard. I have never had the pleasure to be strapped to a backboard, but as my husband will tell you, it is extremely uncomfortable. We're talking "bordering on panicking because I can't stand the pain", uncomfortable. He was strapped down from 8:30 PM until 1:30 AM before they could get him in for his scan, check the scan to make sure he was ok and final release him. 

I saw my bed at 2:00 AM. Wiggles, blissfully unaware of the evening events woke up at her usual 6:30 AM. At least she was smiling.

So there you go. Just another day in my life. Can I get a nap?

Brave Husband. Aren't his eyes pretty?

*Edit: It was drawn to my attention that I didn't actually finish the story. So, as to Pat's health, the doctor said it looked like he had been in a car crash on the CT scan. The kind where technically all you did was strain your neck, but really that means you'll be so sore you'll want to cry every time you put on your shoes for like the next week. But we are counting our blessings that he didn't inadvertently loosen his hardware or something.