Saturday, March 17, 2012

Hand, Foot, and Mouth

...and legs and arms and especially hiney.
Somebody warned me not too long ago that a disease that causes icky, painful looking sores to pop up on three or more areas of the body was spreading like wildfire. Being the smug, confidant mother that I far to often am, I went, "meh", and thought nothing more of it. Fast forward to this past week. After a mild fever that lasted only a day, a vague rash appeared on Noah's torso and thighs. The doctor said that it didn't look like hand, foot and mouth disease at the time, since there were none of the affiliated sores in Noah's mouth or on his feet. Tylenol and snuggles were prescribed, and I went home with a warm toddler. The next day the sores showed up. Apparently, these nasty little blighters itch, 'cause poor Noah is having at his hind-end like a monkey. So much so that when I change his diapers, as soon as the diaper's off, he scoots his hiney back and forth across the carpet for optimal itch scratching.
  The best news is, this disease is going to have him barred from public appearances for a couple of weeks. Even after the symptoms go away, he could still be contagious for quite a while. Therefore, no church, no playdates, no trips to the park for Noah. Poor Noah. Moral of this story: diseases suck.
  Other than Noah's illness, life has been tumultuous this past week. A pipe under our house up and collapsed somewhere in/under the slab, causing drainage issues that make my kitchen smell straight-up gross. Our new insurance representative denied us any coverage for the issue because it's under the house, not in it. (Is there even such a thing as slab insurance?)  Stephan worked valiantly to fix the pipe without having to jackhammer our kitchen/living room floors. After hours of working in putrid sludge from old, cast iron pipes, he realized that it couldn't be done, and the floors would have to go. Poor Stephan. Moral of this story: what the heck do we pay insurance for if they won't insure us??
  Yet still in times such as these, when sickness strikes and we have to deal with seemingly overwhelming house malfunctions, I can say that I am blessed. I look at my handsome husband, working so hard to provide a safe home for his family, and I know I am blessed. I look at our children, so happy and loveable and sweet, and I know that we are blessed. Most impressive of all, I look at the Scriptures and read of all the things that God has done for a wretch like me and I am in awe of how blessed I am. Forbid it, Lord, that I should ever grumble! You have been so good to me.

  Have a blessed night, readers!    

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