This is the sight I woke to this morning.
The Husband had been on-call for 60 hours and he stumbled home last night, absolutely exhausted. He fell into the chair, and I could tell, he just couldn’t move, let alone talk. I felt like dropping myself; however, seeing him in such a state gave me a little extra energy to put his needs above mine. (I know that sounds sickeningly like the perfect wife, and I’m far from that, but I felt so much compassion for him and he’s usually helpful around dinner). I placed food in-front of the children and then gave a plate to my husband, still in the chair, with a glass of milk. A glass of milk? I don’t know why I gave him a glass of milk; but it felt like the nurturing thing to do.
The children took their plates to the kitchen sink. I don’t remember telling them a story. Did I? I certainly had no energy left to clean the kitchen. So there it was, sitting patiently for me this morning. Today as I write this, I feel fresher, and I can tackle the mess. I don’t like leaving the kitchen a mess but in a way, I feel good about it. I feel good about it because I was able to prioritise what was important for our family in the moment, and — stuff the rest. It was important, for the moment that has now past, to invest in my husband — I know it.
Sometimes, when my husband comes home I say this:
“I didn’t do very well in the house today, but I loved the children.”
He smiles. And then I smile.