Yesterday was "date night" at the church, meaning that couples get free childcare so they can go out alone. We'd been talking about going to a movie, but he didn't feel up to it, so we changed our plans to watching DVDs at home, with the boys. Before we could go get them, though, his pain spiked to the point that I had to take him back in to the hospital.
I didn't want to go home just to spend the evening cleaning and breaking up fights between the boys, so I took them to Safari Sams. I worked on revising some poetry while they played. But then Alex injured himself. He leaned against what he thought was a mesh wall and was actually open air. He has a very distinct wail when he is injured, and after that he wouldn't play anymore. He kept laying down on the floor, getting in the way, begging to go home -- which was pointless since we'd just have to turn around and come back for Mark. He also kept asking me to "fix it." Fix his bruised rear? How was I supposed to do that? Humor, which usually helps with him, only aggravated him further.
We went to the dollar store, and the boys each got a toy. They also bought a couple of things for their daddy -- a little robot whose chest lights up and a glass that says "No, you can't have a sip." I picked that out actually because it made me laugh. It's perfect for Mark, who has for years been annoyed with my tendency to ask for sips out of his glass. (Not that his annoyance stops me from asking ... I mean, really! What's the point of dirtying another glass if all I want is a sip?)
Anyway, when we got back to the hospital, Mark wasn't ready to go yet so I took the boys out to the waiting room to wait. They played for quite awhile with their "FBI" sets, darting behind pillars to shoot at each other with their toy guns, until the receptionist informed that no guns were allowed in the hospital. Hello?!? They're clearly cheap and plastic and FAKE. And besides, we were the only ones there -- besides her. I think the truth of the matter is that they were annoying her. Whatever. At least, the moment I told the boys they had to quit, they did. Alex got Legos out of the hospital bag that I keep packed and ready in the back of the van. Brendan and I got out Go Fish. We dined on M&M and waited.
Mark showed up not much later. He wanted to stop at Fred Meyers on the way home. I didn't want to. I was SO tired, and my body just ached, but he needed a medication for the night so we went. Forty-five minutes and I won't tell you how many dollars later, we left the store. See, they hadn't managed to get through the crisis without narcotics. Narcotics and debit cards do not go well together, even with one's wife standing there, saying, "What are thinking?" I was very clear that I was not pleased with him, but in that state, he doesn't care. But this morning he does care, very much. He asked me not to allow him into the store anymore when he's on narcotics. Sounds like a darn good idea to me!
This morning, we are both weary. He is hung over, I guess you could say, from the drugs. I am just tired. Emotionally. I actually slept for over eight hours, which I haven't managed in quite some time. But nights like yesterday just leave me weary.
The good news is that I have to get off my duff here soon. Kaitlyn, back from her all nighter, needs to be run to town to get shorts and running shoes for track, which starts on Monday. It's a gorgeous day out here, and one could hardly help being cheered by the sunshine and the trees all decked out in blooms.
And then there are my babies ... particularly the little one who just came up to me, a Zorro type mask on his face, one hand clutching his "gun," the other behind his back. He had something for me, for Christmas, he said. He pulled out a little white flower. I grinned. "Well, thank you!" How can I be too down with that kind of lovin' in my life?
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