Emergence

So we survived the kids' first official stomach flu. (I now see that the one at the beach, with Meg's one vomiting incident, did not count. Mommy and Daddy may have had the flu that time, but the kids largely missed it.) Saturday was the day the rays broke through the clouds, when we made it all the way through without any basins, buckets, or diaper explosions--the first time in eight days. By Sunday there were no symptoms left, except for an extremely emotional (yes, even more than usual) and tired little girl. And you should see both kids eat! They are making up for lost time, and weight.

Man, do I feel like a rookie mom. When I'm an older, wiser, more experienced mother, I'll take these kinds of minor crises more in stride, right? I won't always feel like children throwing up = apocalypse? I won't always be so utterly revolted by poop that no diaper can contain? Or will I just become better at concealing my horror? Hopefully I'll at least have more perspective next time. Yes, eight days of yuckyness goes by slowly. But it's not forever. Not hardly. And I am aware of so many who are experiencing real suffering and sorrow, stuff that I can scarcely even imagine. The glimpses that I get of others' grief and pain makes me even more aware of my own immaturity.

*****
This week has been so beautiful, and we've spent lots of time outside. The kids are crazy with joy to be out in the sunlight and wind and fresh air. I don't blame them--they didn't set foot outside for a whole week, not even to be hustled into the car. Now they are gloriously free--daily opening up the front door and plunging into sudden spring! (Or at least a foretaste of spring.) I love watching them run and squeal and laugh.

Matthew is getting to be such a big boy. This week, he suddenly began to demonstrate his mastery of slides. I'm not sure when he learned to go down a sliding board all by himself, but he's done it about 50 times this week, with vast pride and huge smiles and much praise from Mommy. He can go forward, sitting up, but he prefers going backward on his stomach. It's pretty cute.

I took lots of pictures of the kids today, as they played on the neighborhood playground. I planned to include them in this post, too. Then I left the camera, in its case, sitting on the floor of the playground. Many hours later, I remembered this and frantically went running back to look for it. As you can imagine, it was nowhere in sight. So you may have to endure pictureless posts for a while. Not that most of you come here for the photography, but... you can at least imagine how the long-distance grandparents will feel. I am truly sorry for being such a nitwit. You can pray that the camera was found by some generous and well-meaning individual whom God will sovereignly guide to our doorstep. That's what I'm going to pray, anyway.

I'll let you know what happens.