When Kyle was born, she decided to give up her teaching career to stay at home and raise him. She believed – as I do – that (if financially possible) children should be raised by their parents, and not day care. I was lucky enough to have a job that paid well, and had pretty good medical coverage, so the decision was made.
She’s been raising our (now four) children for twelve years, and while I occasionally tease her about sitting on the couch all day eating bon-bons, I know she works hard.
Yesterday was another reminder…
She woke up with stabbing stomach pains that her doubled over in pain. Her mother took her to the hospital at 6:30am, I called out from work, and had to be Mr. Mom for the day. Things were more complicated by the fact that Kyle had a stomach virus, and was also home sick.
So, I had to wake everyone up, and feed them breakfast (in a word: cereal). I looked in on Kyle, and got Erik dressed and ready for school. I packed the kids (Kevin and Julia still in pajamas) into the car and took Erik to school. Rushed back home to get Julia ready, and did Dad’s best attempt at putting her hair in a ponytail. Rushed Julia off to school, and left Kevin (who was off) and Kyle at home. Ran back to give Kyle some aspirin and Kevin something to drink.
This all happened in the span of an hour. The rest of the day was equally hectic.
I write all this because I want her to know how much she works around here. I want her to know that if something ever happened to her, we would be in big trouble, because I can’t do her job. She is the glue that holds this family together, and I want her to know that I appreciate what she does here.
Today, she is spending her birthday in a hospital bed, suffering from diverticulitis.
Oh: Today is also the start of the Earp Family Birthday Marathon: three birthdays in six days.