http://forrestsfinefurniture.com/gallery/shaker-style-blanket-chest/ I got a text message from my Mother In Law ‘can we take the kids for a week in March?’, as fast as I could spell out D. U. H. we were plotting our escape from this small town.
buy clomid pct Four nights without our two toddlers and the city’s vibrant arms wide open. Yet I sat there pregnant, bloated and ambivalent. I had expectations. Expectations for this trip to be like our last (non-pregnant) one: intimate, exciting, sun pooling over us as we ate and drank and wandered streets like newlyweds in Italy.
|The view from one of the hotels. I saw dollar signs, he saw mountains and something about boats and barges that I didn’t quite catch.|
I can look back at this time and think of other things I’ve ruined for myself (and probably my husband) because I had certain expectations. Not that there is anything wrong with hopes and plans, but how I handle it is the spoiler.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful Cor 13:4-6
Then I look at my husband, wandering the city streets with my shopping bags in his hands. Maybe he was appeasing his cheese-gobbling, swollen-footed wife, but he wasn’t unhappy. I take for granted the carefree spirit in him, maybe I even resent it sometimes. He always makes people around him happy and relaxed because he lets himself be.
It did end up being a really great trip once I let my brain and heart parallel the same thought – that being away from the kids was probably hardest for me alone, #momproblems and this experience should only be viewed with gratitude for what is rather than expectations for what it should be. And I have lots to be grateful for!
My husband hailed cabs for my swollen feet and knees (does anyone else get pregnancy arthritis?! No I’m not 87, it’s a real thing!). We chatted, laughed, ate, found peace in the moments of silence and kept on exploring.
Then we ate some more.
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