This post is getting ready to have some serious TMI. So if you have a weak stomach or do not care to hear about vomit, you might want to skip this blog post. You've been warned! =)
Pretty flower tree is here to give space to the weak stomached people who are now exiting my blog. =) We wouldn't want them to accidentally read something gross!
We had an AMAZING time in Florida. It was wonderful to spend time with our family. The warm weather was a welcome change from the icy temps at home, and the race was perfect.
But there is a negative to this little story. And since it played so much into this week, I thought I'd share. My stomach felt a little strange on Sunday night. But I hadn't eaten anything after the race until 3pm (long, boring story) and then only had a milkshake for supper. So I attributed it to that and went to bed. The next morning I was really feeling nauseous. But if my blood sugar gets low, I feel icky. So I ate a little bit for breakfast while we loaded up the truck to head home. About 30 minutes down the road I was really sick. Jon stopped for some caffeine and I knew my breakfast was coming up. My sweet husband spent the next 12 hours listening to me puke in a bag. He would wait till I was finished, pull off the interstate, throw my bag in the trash, and go into the store or restaurant to get me more puke bags. He did this the entire way home. He bought me medicine and pop. He took the kids into a restaurant without me for lunch so I could have a mini nap. He kept rubbing my shoulders while I threw up.
That poor man deserves a medal!
By the time we arrived home - hours after we should have, I was finally feeling like I could keep something down. Jon made me some jello water ( a trick my mom used growing up) and I went to bed. The next morning I was sore, dizzy, shaky, and alive.
I spent the day on the couch eating in very small increments so I could get my strength back. It completely wiped me out. I had my plate piled so high with things I HAD to accomplish. But I just didn't have it in me.
So Wednesday morning when I woke up and felt normal again, I knew it was going to be a whirlwind rest of the week. I hit the ground running and haven't stopped. To complicate matters, I am getting ready for the semi-annual consignment sale next week. I typically make $400-500 per sale in addition to working the sale. So this was a bit of a big deal. Jon and I also started a business and are in the process of getting things finalized and off the ground.
Usually my house is clean or almost clean. It stays in such a way that if you are my friend and stop by unexpectedly I'll let you in. It might be a bit cluttered, but I figure you'll love me anyway.
If you had stopped by this week I wouldn't have let you in. I don't care who you were. My floors were crunchy, my counters were sticky, my laundry was mountainous, my kids were probably smelly, and meals consisted of whatever you could find. It wasn't pretty.
So this evening when the sun went down and my house was semi back in order, I gave a sigh of relief. It's now Sabbath! I can rest, re-charge, and relax for 24 hours with no guilt.
What a blessing! What a privilege to be a part of that wonderful plan God had for us. He's an amazing God and I have thanked Him all week for seeing me through.
Ugly - vomiting for almost 12 hours straight
Bad - how crazy my week was
Good - being sick on Monday, instead of Sunday during my race
my family who helped me so much this week
my amazing, awesome husband who is an absolute angel
God's plan of rest that gives us a much needed reprieve from our work
Sabbath
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