Hallelujah Is My Song: They Make My Heart Too Big For My Body

Janie developed a high fever last Thursday. A day later, she had bright, red spots all over her body. Hubby Dr. Phil quickly diagnosed Hand-Foot-Mouth Disease. He said there was nothing to do but keep her hydrated and stop her from itching the rash to prevent infection.

Despite washing our hands and sanitizing like crazy, Walt ended up with Hand-Foot-Mouth Disease a few days later. I got hit hard with something Tuesday that gave me a high fever, a sore throat, nausea, and a splitting headache.

Unfortunately, Philip started working nights on Sunday, and his last night shift is tonight (Friday). Taking care of two sick babies and being sick myself made for a long week. Philip did as much as he could to help out by offering me some rest when he came home and taking care of the kids for a few hours here and there.

Despite Philip's tremendous help when he was here (thank you, honey!), the nights dragged on and on. The kids weren't their usual happy-go-lucky selves. Janie itched like crazy and was extremely fussy. Walt was only happy when I was holding him, and he wouldn't eat or drink anything. Tuesday night, my fever reached 103.5. I looked at the clock an hour before Janie was supposed to go down for the night and started to cry. I didn't know how I was physically going to make it to bedtime.

In that terrible, rotten moment, I was feeling so sick and sorry for myself. It occurred to me to start praying a prayer that my sweet high school Algebra/Geometry teacher, Mrs. Classe, always used to start class. It's short, simple, and perfect for a sick mom with two sick kids. "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in You." I started repeating it. Over. And over. And over again.

Since Tuesday night, I've been saying that little prayer to myself when I feel like I'm getting to my breaking point. The more I say the prayer, the less I feel sorry for myself. Sure, I still posted a pity-party status on Facebook to let the world know what a dreadful week I was having. I suppose I'm not used to not having a husband around at night to commiserate with. I have a lot of work to do on the whole redemptive suffering thing. I'm not good at suffering silently. Mrs. Classe's prayer is helping me. I'm learning to be mindful of what I'm doing, and Who I'm doing it for. I might be a wife and mother, but that husband and those babies aren't mine. They're His.

"Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in You." As I say the prayer more and more, the pity parties are less appealing. My problems might be small potatoes compared to the kind of suffering I hear about on the nightly news, but in the moment, whatever I'm experiencing seems magnified and earth-shattering. I'm learning (veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery slooooooooooooooowly) that I have a choice when those moments happen. I can either (1) let the sadness, anger, or pain consume me, or (2) I can use those moments to enter into Christ's Passion and "offer up" my problems for the salvation of souls.

My wise sister told me she would be praying that Mother Mary be with me this week. What a beautiful prayer! If anyone knows how to enter into Christ's Passion, it's Mary. Now that I'm a mother, I find myself seeking our Blessed Mother's counsel more than ever.

So, this week, as I cared for my sick babies and tried to take care of myself, I asked for Mother Mary's perfect patience and tenderness. That, combined with the Sacred Heart of Jesus prayer and the prayers of my family and friends, got me through this week.

The more I prayed, the more Janie and Walt would leave me laughing and writing down all of the adorable things they were doing. Those "kairos" moments gave us a little reprieve from feeling rotten.

"We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body." Ralph Waldo Emerson

The last few days, I've been archiving all of the sweet and funny things Janie and Walt have done to give us intermissions. This could have been a miserable week, and I'd be lying if I said I'll look back on all of it with a smile, but I'd do it all over again for those "my heart is too big for my body" moments.

Here are my notes and a few pictures from the week:

Monday night conversation

Me: Janie, do you like your dinner?

Janie: Yes, Mama. Ih-so yummy! Janie like it. Janie so proudda you!

While folding her hands for bedtime prayer Wednesday, Janie opened them up a bit and announced, "Look, Mama! It's a triangle! Father, Son, Holy Spirit!" Who is this kid?!

Janie is practicing potty training. We haven't bought her a lid cover yet, and she insisted on holding herself up on her own Thursday night. She slipped and ended up in the tank, with her knees up to her eyes. She said, "Mama! Oh, no! Janie gotta go swimming!"

Perhaps I've been a little over-the-top in my encouragement of her potty training because she told me when I announced I was going to use the bathroom, "Mama, I so proud of you! Want Janie read you story? Be right back!"

Desperate to keep Janie entertained these long nights, I found a Taylor Swift concert on Netflix. Jane is enamored. "Woah! Taylor Swipt a rock an' roll star! Taylor Swipt have a guitar! Again! Again!"

When Jane asked for Mac 'N Cheese for dinner Thursday night, I caved in the hopes that Janie and Walt would actually eat. When Janie saw the box, she started hugging it and saying, "Aw, I LOVE you, Mac 'N Cheese! Yay!"

Janie decided she was "Supergirl" Thursday night and asked me to stuff her baby blanky into the collar of her jammies to make a cape. She puts her hands on her hips and says, "Janie Su-per-girl!)"

Janie and I went into the nursery to get Walt this morning. Walt reached out for Jane's hand from the changing table. She smiled and said, "Aw, Walt wanna hold hands. Hi, Walt!"

Jane gave me a grammar lesson this morning at breakfast.

Me: Janie, could you eat your waffle?

Jane: Yeah, I could.

While getting Janie dressed this morning, she looked down at the pattern printed on her shirt, smiled, and said, "Oh, Mama! Thank you so much! It's beautiful!"