Sunday, December 13, 2009

Crying over spilled milk

When Joy was pumping milk for Hyrum, the process was long and took a lot out of her physically and emotionally. When even a drop of precious Mommymilk spilled, it was a traumatic experience. We learned a whole new side of the old saying "Don't cry over spilled milk."

I used to think it meant not crying over piddling things - what's a little milk? When milk is your child's lifeblood and comes at great cost to your beloved, milk is much more valuable. To a dairy farmer, milk might be your livelihood and the ability to feed your family and keep them warm. Milk is important!

But what is done is done. Crying won't change that fact. You just take your licks and move on.

We've had a lot of licks lately!

I was cleaning dishes 10ish days ago when a glass shattered into my pinky finger. I'm still getting all the infection out of it. It'll leave a scar.

I was putting in the rest of the storm windows Friday morning and put one on the other side of the baby gate. I stepped over the gate and put a 6 inch scrape in my leg on the storm window that bled much of the day. Though it's hurt for most of the last 3 days, at least I'm not limping.

Joy got a second degree burn on her elbow last night while making cookies for home and visiting teachees.

Joy has a cold sore.

We're all either getting rid of colds or trying to avoid them. This implies that I'm behind on my sleep and have been aching all over my body most of the last few days.

Hyrum has a terrible dieaper rash and doesn't want to sit anywhere. We think he's also getting ready for a growth spurt because he's been irritable as anything and not sleeping as well as usual (aka 8 hours isntead of 11).

Then today at church, we returned to the spilled milk. I got out of the car and spilled a cup of milk on my suit and the car ... just like happened last week ... TWICE ... when getting out of the car and when Hy dumped a cup on me and my seat while perched on my shoulders. Another cup fell from the pew when Joy moved something else and it burst open, so I ran to bathroom to get paper to wipe it up during the sacrament itself. We no sooner got home, but the third sippee cup of milk we brought for Hyrum burst open and spilled over the floor and Joy.

Oh, and then I dropped my lunch - chicken parmesan - on the floor next to the gargbage can.

And no, it doesn't help that the pioneers had it worse. No use crying over any of it, though. Just keep moving. "Clean it up. See if you can do better next time" Joy adds sagely. "Laugh when you write it down on your blog." Now I'm off to cook our stir fry.... Pray for it. Gravity is ag'in us.

1 comment:

Grandma Jule said...

How is that gash coming along now? Is it continuing to heal properly?