Honesty is the best policy, I always say. And that's why, from time to time, I make reference on ye ol' blog to strange or unfortunate little quirks about me. The goal is to elicit a laugh or two from the casual reader, and it turns out that clumsiness and other such qualities are funnier than the art of carrying oneself with inherent grace.
You might remember that I can't fold a fitted sheet, for example. Or know that I am the eternal judge of Hands-Up Stands-Up because I can't do a handstand, even for the briefest instant. Good friends will recognize my eternal plague of nervous neck rash. I got car sick as a child. And migraines. Both made me throw up. I'm not good at sports. I sunburn. I don't dance well. I can only draw stick figures. I fall on the ice. Regularly.
But honesty is, in fact, the best policy, and I know I am guilty of omission. I am so very lucky to be healthy and strong. Every single day, I work with people who have broken bodies. Sick bodies. Weak, tired, fragile bodies. And always, always, it seems, bodies that hurt.
Some of them will get better. Others will not.
And I am humbled. I am blessed. I am well.
I can run 13.1 miles. I can make delicious homemade pizza. I have nice feet and also green eyes. My neck doesn't do that horrible popping thing if I push my chin to the side. My leg hair is blonde = less noticeable (right?). I don't get migraines anymore, and I don't throw up when in cars or planes. I've never broken a bone and I'm not allergic to food. I can walk in heels and run in flip flops. I can listen. I can speak. I can see and taste and smell. I can touch. You get the idea. I have much to be thankful for.
You might remember that I can't fold a fitted sheet, for example. Or know that I am the eternal judge of Hands-Up Stands-Up because I can't do a handstand, even for the briefest instant. Good friends will recognize my eternal plague of nervous neck rash. I got car sick as a child. And migraines. Both made me throw up. I'm not good at sports. I sunburn. I don't dance well. I can only draw stick figures. I fall on the ice. Regularly.
But honesty is, in fact, the best policy, and I know I am guilty of omission. I am so very lucky to be healthy and strong. Every single day, I work with people who have broken bodies. Sick bodies. Weak, tired, fragile bodies. And always, always, it seems, bodies that hurt.
Some of them will get better. Others will not.
And I am humbled. I am blessed. I am well.
I can run 13.1 miles. I can make delicious homemade pizza. I have nice feet and also green eyes. My neck doesn't do that horrible popping thing if I push my chin to the side. My leg hair is blonde = less noticeable (right?). I don't get migraines anymore, and I don't throw up when in cars or planes. I've never broken a bone and I'm not allergic to food. I can walk in heels and run in flip flops. I can listen. I can speak. I can see and taste and smell. I can touch. You get the idea. I have much to be thankful for.
"Happiness comes from accepting the bodies we have been
given as divine gifts and enhancing our natural attributes, not from remaking our bodies after the image of the world." --Susan W. Tanner, Young Women General President, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
Oh, and one other thing. It seems my tummy can grow a baby.
6 comments:
YAY!
i second Liv's YAY! i'm so happy for you guys!!
Woo hoo! Congratulations! And, as the casual reader, you do make me laugh. Except I kind of check your blog religiously instead of just casually. :)
You are going to be the best mom of the century. Congrats! I am thrilled for you and Patrick!
Aaah love this post. Congrats little mommy. I am so excited for you.
Oh wahoo! Sorry I'm a little belated on the congrats. I've been out of town. But yay, I'm so excited to read your upcoming pregnancy/baby antics and laugh!!
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