Husbands of Pregnant Wives

Yeah, I know... my last post I commended myself for being quite good at keeping up on our journal, but that was a month ago. Better late than never?

Yesterday was a mixed bag at our house. The kids and I (and Robert) held a lemonade stand at the grocery store in Mt Horeb to raise money for pediatric cancer research (http://www.alexslemonade.org) Saturday Robert took the first shift with Ben, Mary and Joseph and I went home with little ones and Rebekah and Rachel.

I was pleased that I started laundry (we're behind since I've been at the lemonade stand... and at our house missing a couple of days can really stack up the laundry). I also got the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher (we were in a hurry to get out of the house) and I mopped the floor. The floor had been really bad cause the night before when we brought in the lemonade they of course had to have a few cups and it dribbled all over the floor with dirty feet. I then had the girls do their chores and we folded the laundry waiting for us in the living room. It had been an hour and a half and knowing that Robert didn't really want to sit out with the kids (he had a lesson to prepare for church), I loaded everyone back up and we did a shift change. I gave Joseph, Mary and Ben assignments (chore rooms, rotate laundry, clean yard, etc) and stayed at the stand with Rebekah and Rachel and their friend Nikki.

At 5pm I called Robert, he came to pick us up and we headed home. I got home first. I had wanted to get more done to prepare for the Sabbath, but felt like the lemonade stand was a good cause and at least I got the floor mopped. Well I walked into the house and discovered a huge spill of chocolate milk by the stove and little dribbles of chocolate all over the floor. I practically had to re-mop it. It didn't take too long, but was definitely frustrating. Robert walked in, figured I'd be pleased with the chores the kids got done while I was gone, but in entered a frustrated wife because her work was undone.

What I really needed was, "Oh Honey! I'm so sorry." But everyone was defensive and feeling like I was blaming them and Robert tried to tell me that it wasn't too bad. Not the thing to tell a pregnant hormonal woman. It just spiraled into a night of hurt feelings and a calamity of other events (having to take the tub drain apart to plunge out the soggy TP, etc).

By the end of last night I just wanted to give up on everything. Why keep trying if I'm just going to be knocked flat on my end every time I try. I had recently read a general conference talk that at the end mentioned our striving for perfection. He posed the question that if you take a letter out to the mailbox and stop halfway, then go halfway more, and then halfway more, etc, would you ever reach the mailbox? No, but you'd get close enough to mail the letter. After last night I felt depressed and hopeless. (probably just moody and tired).

I told Robert I didn't want to talk about it as we were going to bed because I've learned that fatigue really is half of the battle with me. Upon waking we talked and talked and talked. We finally worked through the issues of the previous night (he's soooo patient with me) but I was still distraught and wanted to give up on trying again (to mail the letter). I am so grateful for a husband who can recognize the promptings of the Holy Spirit and is the strong priesthood holder I need him to be. Wouldn't you know it but he pulled me out of that hole I tripped over and I'm going to try to go halfway more to the mailbox.