On A Double Rainbow Day

We've been in total survival mode for the past month.  And there have been a few days when survival itself has seemed in question. =)

It's not like I've never been really exhausted before.  It's not like I haven't shouldered large amounts of stress and anxiety.  It's not really new for me to fall on my knees every night and plead for grace to make me physically and emotionally more than I am.  But the weight of our new responsibilities and routines has felt heavy in spite of the familiarity.  In short, life has been a little on the harder side of happy.  And I've wished a few times there was some way to just give up.  Throw in the towel.  Refuse.  Have any of you found that option yet?  Let me know =)

But the fact that I'm using a Friday night to blog vs. completely crash proves that we're making some progress.  A little.  =)

The first days of school are exhausting as a parent. And they're exhausting as a teacher. And they're doubly exhausting as both.  I prayed and cried hard that first night, and tried to remind myself that it would all certainly get easier.

And it seemed to.  Slightly.  By dinnertime three days later, in fact, I had enough presence of mind to look out the window and say to the kids, "what a beautiful night!" We stepped outside together only to be further dazzled by a sudden sun-shower and a bright double rainbow arching perfectly across the sky.  The kids scrambled for umbrellas and I grabbed my camera to try to capture the fleeting colors that seemed so much like a good omen.

I snapped a shot or two from the patio and then hurried across the grass to take a few...

Crack!  I fell down hard with a sharp gasp.  That stupid hole in the grass! I thought with clenched teeth.  I couldn't get up.  I tried to speak calmly when I asked Lucy to go get a neighbor, but finally had to beg with intensity to draw her attention away from the rainbows and the umbrellas.  She finally registered the urgency and complied with my request while I sat there silently cursing and reminding myself to breathe.  But as I waited, the pain in my ankle suddenly subsided (a merciful, if momentary, symptom of third degree sprains, I learned later) and I finally did get up and hop back into the house without help.

I laughed at myself good and hard, then, when I was on the couch with my ankle elevated under a bag of frozen banana pieces.  The timing was too impeccable.  I'd be at school the next day from 8-8 for a full day of never-off-my-feet teaching, and then a parent orientation in the evening.  My good home-teachers came and gave me a blessing and wrapped my ankle and propped the foot of my bed and procured me a pair of crutches.  They even came back the next morning and helped me make lunches and carry bags to the car.  So there was lots of help.  And I was fine and would be fine, I knew.

But when I dragged my super swollen leg and my tired kids into the house at 8:45 the next night, I couldn't keep back tears for another minute.  Not even to get the kids into bed.  Lucy and Spencer regularly see me cry with happiness and sadness both.  But that night's wrenching I-really-truly-don't- know-if-I-can-survive-another-day-of-life cry was a little more dramatic.  When I finally caught my breath, I tried to reassure them, with quieter tears streaming down my face, "I don't want you to feel nervous because I'm crying.  I'm just really super tired, and really super hurting.  Do you understand that?"  I"ll always remember their sweet nodding and hugs.  "I want you to know that I know Heavenly Father will help me to feel better.  Do you know that?"  More nods.  "Some days are pretty hard but we'll make it through all the hard days together."

And we did.  And we are.
And the next night, as the kids examined my black and blue ankle,

Lucy shook her head and said, "I can't believe you sprained your ankle on a double rainbow day."
And we laughed and laughed together.

I spent most of that Saturday in bed.  Tired to the bone after one of the truly most intense weeks of my life.

Sunday was my birthday.

I hobbled around Wes's headstone, watching the kids play, trying to enjoy the beauty of the day, trying not to worry.  About everything.  =)

But time has passed (flown!) and I'm almost walking normally again.  And as much as I'm still averaging 10 hour school days, and as much as I'm not doing any housework, and as much as my kids are lucky to get a lunch everyday,  I do love them!!  

And i do love my two classes of kindergartners! 

"apple for the teacher!"  thanks sweet ruby!   

And I do recognize how many of my prayers (uttered and unexpressed) are answered everyday.  Like my ankle slowly healing.  Like my kids loving their classes and teachers.  Like my neighbors helping to watch Lucy and Spencer, and taking my trash can to the curb every week when I forget.  Like magically mowed lawns, great, supportive administrators and coworkers, and lots of easy-prep food in my pantry.  Like the love note my mom left hanging in my kitchen after coming to clean yesterday.  

And so many, many, many more.  

Life is good!  

(And when - if? - we manage to get home from school by 5:00 every day,  all the better!!!  =)