On Wednesday we took our Kindergarten class on a fieldtrip. We all piled into our van and drove through the neighborhood to the house of an elderly woman, ill and unable to leave her bed.
The children sang her some Christmas songs, gave her cards they had each made, and presented her with a macaroni necklace each of them had helped to put together.
I don't think I have ever seen our Kindergarten class so earnest. It was beautiful, and of course, it made me cry.
Last night my children and I worked on the ornaments for our tree. We decided on snowflakes, snowmen, cinnamon sticks with ribbons and rafia, and peppermint candy garland. They made the cutest little snowmen I've ever seen. And the snowflakes, being 3-dimensional are pretty darn cool. Of course, they also made some frightfully ugly ear muffs out of pipe cleaner and styrofoam balls. Being a loving parent, I am required to keep the ugly things on the tree. To me, they look like Santa's broken dumbbells.
Today, I had surgery. It was altogether a strange experience, as I woke up asking the nurse when I would be having surgery, and she and I argued for a while about whether or not I already had. Eventually my surgeon showed up and confirmed that I had indeed been in and out of surgery already. He also told me I could have 4 more children if I would like. I told him to leave.
So now I'm on bedrest for a week but I feel like nothing took place that should prevent me from moving about. Besides, it's Christmas. I should like to get out and do things. The problem with this is that I keep falling asleep.
The outpouring of concerned friends has been nice, and it seems God created a direct line for me today. Earlier I wanted cookies and there was a knock at the door. UPS was delivering cookies. Then I wanted to call my friend, and while looking for her number, she called me.
I feel blessed, secure, and thankful that all my parts remain inside my body and nothing was so sickly it had to be removed. I'm hopeful that the endometriosis is at bay, but a little sad over things that are larger than my knowledge of words to express them. On the same note, I refuse to let my disappointment in one thing ruin my triumph in another.