Croup & some of my thoughts about life

I'm home from church today with my sweet little Taycie Grace.  She is croupy.  (This is why I've had the time to write 13 blog posts today! I'm finally catching up!)  

She really is doing all right, but I don't think I'll ever get over feeling completely panicked when one of my children has croup.  Anyone who has had children suffer from this and struggle to breathe knows what I'm talking about. You just worry so much about them.  Watching Zach stop breathing when he was Taycie's exact age is an experience I'll never get over.  I'm so thankful he's here with us.  

Here she is rubbed down with chest rub, sleeping soundly.  I kept Abby and Andrew home because their noses are runny also. 

Oh, I love this baby.  

Thinking about croup reminds me of a poem I read a long time ago in the Ensign magazine.  When I read it, I was absolutely amazed, not because of eloquent prose, but because it put into words perfectly the way I felt when Christian and Tara were getting married.  I'm always excited for people to get married, but sometimes I just feel a little overwhelmed about the long journey they are beginning so naively and blissfully.  It is such a learning and growing experience, and a lot of people go into it so unprepared.  

Here's the poem that I could have written:

Martha P. Taysom, "The Wedding Reception", Ensign, Apr. 2005, 25

I sit and watch her.

My pastel punch and thick-iced cake

(On delicate plate)

Balance awkwardly on my knee.

I think of me 12 years before.

Her smile beams

First on this reception guest,

Then that.

Sometimes blushing,

Sometimes laughing,

Always turning

Eyes of admiration to the handsome groom.

.
Should I tell her?

Tell her of face-down peanut-buttered bread

On new-mopped floor?

Of a two-year-old stretched out

and kicking angrily

In the grocery store

(And everybody watching)?

.
Can I tell her?

Tell her of the almost-can’t-cope days?

The lonely evenings

Waiting for bishopric meeting

To end?

.
Will I tell her?

Tell her of the terrifying cry

Of croup

Deep in night?

Or the quickened step

Of the home teacher

Summoned to help administer

To a feverish brow?

.
No.

But neither can I share with her

The thrill of a newborn’s nose

Bobbing in my neck;

The pride of seeing a six-year-old

Begin to read.

.
I cannot tell her

Of a husband’s gentle touch

On my hand

As we pass briefly

In the chapel foyer.

.
So,

Standing, I brush away the crumbs

From my not-so-new dress,

Smile,

And wave a little

To the bride

Across the room.

.
Oh, I get tears in my eyes just reading that.  I think I've reached a point in my life where parenting is not as hard as it once was.  I have older kids to help, I recognize when I'm tired or need more nutrition in order to feel sane, and I've made a bit more reasonable expectations for myself.  But remembering those times when all my kids were little brings back the feelings I had back then.  

I didn't need to worry about Tara.  She's taken all the hard parts of mothering in stride, and made probably the most joyful home I've ever seen.  Check out her blog at: http://hahnlife.blogspot.com/

Anyway, two more thoughts of married life:

President Gordon B. Hinckly quoted Jenkin Lloyd Jones with this quote:

There seems to be a superstition among many thousands of our young who hold hands and smooch in the drive-ins that marriage is a cottage surrounded by perpetual hollyhocks, to which a perpetually young and handsome husband comes home to a perpetually young and ravishing wife. When the hollyhocks wither and boredom and bills appear, the divorce courts are jammed.
Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just ordinary people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. . . .
Life is like an old-time rail journey--delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.

I have to admit that when I first heard that quote by President Hinckley, I really disliked it, because I really feel like I've had an un-typical, blissful marriage.  But that quote really is true.  The joys of family life are mixed with lots of hard work, long days, and mundane tasks.

I agree with this quote from my favorite talk about marriage:

"While marriage is difficult, and discordant and frustrated marriages are common, yet real, lasting happiness is possible, and marriage can be more an exultant ecstasy than the human mind can conceive. This is within the reach of every couple, every person." - Spencer W. Kimball