Laundry and finger smashing

This morning I woke up to the usual Monday morning laundry pile. I think millions of moms wake up to the same pile all across North America, so I know I'm in good company. I also know that I have it easy compared to many women. In the past, I have done laundry in all sorts of places - from hand washing in a lake, hang drying on a clothes line, laundro-mats, campus laundry, apartment building laundry rooms, garage laundry, closet laundry area, and now larger closet laundry area. My current little area is adjacent to the kitchen and I find it so convenient.

I've been telling my kids that you can't know anything for sure by appearances only. You can't believe everything you hear. And just because something is in print doesn't mean it is true, even if it claims to be true.

So you would be wrong to think my laundry room is neat and tidy. 

From inside the closet across the hall where I stood to take this picture, there was a lot more to the story that I didn't capture. Judging from the picture above, you can't know that the floor is so rotted from water and termite damage that the washer is beginning to fall through. You don't know that both machines are running, or that there's a lovely pile of clothes in front of the machines waiting to be dealt with. You can't hear my kids asking for breakfast, confused as to why I'm taking pictures of laundry.

I don't mind doing laundry even if I am always amazed by how much I have each week. And this is only some of it...

Someday, when I don't have nearly as much clothes to wash, I think I will be glad I took these grainy, poorly lit pictures because laundry is such a regular and normal part of my weeks. I'm glad we have the clothes we need and healthy children who have places to get them dirty. And for dollar bills to pay off any kid who wants to help fold.

On the other hand, I wonder why there's so much to wash when this is how some prefer to dress...

...or why I should even bother washing clothes that they're only going to wear out next week?

Enough about laundry.

Today I found Jacob in the bathroom breaking off little strips of toilet paper, and throwing them into the trash. I mentioned not being wasteful, that toilet paper costs money, etc. He said, "Well, don't worry because when I'm a grown up and you are old and don't have money, I will buy you toilet paper. When I'm a grown up, I'll have something like one hundred cents."

Phew... That's one less worry for me! 

Andrew had a little accident this weekend, and I am so encouraged by his maturity and toughness when it comes to pain and inconvenience. Saturday afternoon he and his brothers were playing in the dirt with Jon's hammers. They like to hammer little sticks and nails into the dirt, or break up rock to discover sparkling crystals. Michael was using the back of the hammer, the claw part that pulls out nails, to dig into the dirt. Andrew was beside him and pointed to something where Michael was digging just as the hammer came down. 

Oh, the blood! I'm so glad Jon was with us that afternoon because he does much better than I with gushing blood. I did my part of running away to get a clean, cold cloth to compress the wound, while Jon carried Andrew closer to the house. There was an entrance and an exit wound. Once the blood was nearly stopped, and Michael was reassured that it was not his fault, I took Andrew to Urgent Care. 

Andrew was such a trooper. He remembered that we were in the same exam room Jacob was in when he had to get an apple seed removed form his ear. He giggled the whole time while the doctor pocked and prodded for debris, irrigated both sides of his finger, stuffed some tissue back in, and then glued it shut. Only once did he look at me with a serious, exasperated expression and said, "Can we just get this over with?"

The claw amazingly left his bone uninjured. It's hard to even imagine how it cleared his finger with the bone in its path. The Lord was good.

When we were leaving, there was a fire truck and an ambulance outside the doors. Next to the ambulance stood a mother with a little girl in her arms and a little boy by her side. My chest tightened and Andrew drew near to me. That was me a couple years ago, standing outside the ER waiting for Jon and Andrew to be pulled out of the ambulance. Her situation was different in that there was only one paramedic casually assisting, versus a whole slew of medics surrounding the stretchers my guys were in. There were no sirens or puddles of blood; probably no police officers on their way to question her. Still, I felt for her as I clutched my Andrew's little hand and led him past, thankful for his life and limbs yet again.

Yes, the Lord was good.

Then when we went to the drug store to pick up a prescription for an antibiotic, I told him he could pick out a treat. He sweetly asked if he could get one for everybody.

The last two mornings I have called on someone else to make his bed for him, but each time it was already done. He walks around with his hand up, his arm bent at the elbow, but he doesn't complain. He reminds me to give him his medicine like clockwork. 

He is so excited to know that he will probably get a scar, and informed his brothers that he has the most scars. At a birthday party this afternoon, he thought it was cool that all the dads were interested in his finger.

These were taken today. The glue forms a seal, so no bandage is required. 

Entrance wound:

Exit wounds- 

Its hard to tell, but there are two wounds sites, the bigger one being the place where the tissue was protruding. The glue reflects the light, making it look smaller than it actually is.

And maybe this is morbid, but here's the hammer!

"I shall remember the deeds of the Lord;

Surely I will remember Your wonders of old.

I will meditate on all Your work

And muse on all your deeds."

Ps. 77: 11-12

~Katherine