Coming Home.

Yesterday morning I deep-cleaned our bedroom. I felt good for the first time in a while and it was time to attack my sorely neglected home. I dusted and polished our bureau and cleared out any "piles" that were remaining. Then I cleared off our armchair, organized our DVD's, and dusted the windowsills. The finished product was quite gleaming, if I may say so myself, and I was excited for my husband to come home and notice all of my hard work.

At around 1:40 I got a call about a project (Operation Christmas Child) our small group at church is doing. For one reason or another, pretty much the entire project (purchasing and organizing toys for the kids in our Wednesday night kids program to help assemble boxes) had been put on my shoulders and there was a LOT of work that had to be done by 6:00 last night. I'll be honest--my attitude was a tad rocky. The nausea had come back by then and I had zero motivation. I had one clean bedroom, but that was it. But, I stepped back and looked at the situation and realized I DO stay at home and I DO have the time to handle it, so I went right at it. I worked non-stop until 6:00 (throwing up only once somewhere in there). I had the toys purchased, organized according to class, and once I was there I helped the kids organize the toys to put in shoeboxes to send to other kids around the world. (One funny highlight--one kid asked me "Why doesn't Santa just go to Africa?" Hmmm .... uh ... I said, "Well, this IS Santa's way of helping out the kids in Africa!" BLAH!! What kind of lame answer is that?? The kid accepted that but I wanted to say, "THERE IS NO FREAKING SANTA CLAUS." But, I abstained.) So.  Anyway. After we got all of the toys organized we had to put them in boxes and finished that around 8:00. Then I had worship team practice and halfway through practice I threw up (I made it to the toilet, thankfully). My husband had also been up at church helping out and we finally met up at home around 10:00. He had put Cub to bed and I stumbled into our bedroom.

And I laughed.

My polished bureau was covered in a huge towel and a humidifier (my husband said he needed it). My cleaned off armchair was covered in the clothes my husband had worn that day. All of my work was now buried at the end of the day. And so I laughed. 

I snuggled up to my husband, SO GLAD to be home. I ran to the bathroom one last time for one last release of whatever else could possibly be on my stomach, and then I was in bed for good. My  husband and I talked about our days and then watched a movie. It was a good end to the day.

I'm not sure where this post was supposed to go, except that it's just so nice to be home with the man you love at night. No matter what the crazy day brings, it's good to have him there. 

Even if his clothes are piled on your chair. :)