Monday, March 07, 2005
I know, I know, blogs with infrequent posts blow. Mine probably blows more when I do post, but what the hell, here goes...
I have had a hell of a time lately with very little sleep (resulting in a meltdown of epic proportions on Saturday night. My poor hubby!) and a sick baby (again!) and a very very very sick 7-year-old. My poor girl has a raging infection in her right ear and throat and sinuses. Her suffering is tortuous to watch, and I count the hours until I can give her her next dose of antibiotics.
At the doctor's clinic this morning, she looked so pathetic that total strangers were trying to help her. An old Iranian lady gave her a massage, taking her legs onto her own lap and stroking her feet and calves and speaking to her in, um...Farsi? Anyway, it was sweet. Nevertheless the wait to see our beloved doctor was awful. God how I wish doctors made house calls.
She has taken to saying the rosary, a little thing her grandma taught her during a sleepover last week. Her diligence about it is very cute, and I believe in prayer, even when you're not sure what it is you're saying. The rosary thing was totally lost on her younger brother, but he loves the crucifix. In fact he chided me recently over our move from our local Catholic church to the United church. He loved seeing Jesus on the cross and the stations of the cross. So did I as a child (still do, truth be told). One of my favourite movies ever is still Jesus of Nazareth. Have you seen it? An oldie but a goodie, especially at Easter.
But I like the United church. But, alas, that is a topic for another post. Farewell, friends!
I have had a hell of a time lately with very little sleep (resulting in a meltdown of epic proportions on Saturday night. My poor hubby!) and a sick baby (again!) and a very very very sick 7-year-old. My poor girl has a raging infection in her right ear and throat and sinuses. Her suffering is tortuous to watch, and I count the hours until I can give her her next dose of antibiotics.
At the doctor's clinic this morning, she looked so pathetic that total strangers were trying to help her. An old Iranian lady gave her a massage, taking her legs onto her own lap and stroking her feet and calves and speaking to her in, um...Farsi? Anyway, it was sweet. Nevertheless the wait to see our beloved doctor was awful. God how I wish doctors made house calls.
She has taken to saying the rosary, a little thing her grandma taught her during a sleepover last week. Her diligence about it is very cute, and I believe in prayer, even when you're not sure what it is you're saying. The rosary thing was totally lost on her younger brother, but he loves the crucifix. In fact he chided me recently over our move from our local Catholic church to the United church. He loved seeing Jesus on the cross and the stations of the cross. So did I as a child (still do, truth be told). One of my favourite movies ever is still Jesus of Nazareth. Have you seen it? An oldie but a goodie, especially at Easter.
But I like the United church. But, alas, that is a topic for another post. Farewell, friends!
# posted by becca : 1:43 PM
