Bear with me as I ramble. This blog is about therapy. Cheap Therapy for Unraveling Nerves. Presently, my nerves. If you know me well, you know that I am not a very pink girl... but I am getting pinker and pinker every day. Because of:
Wheels. Speeeeeed. Heights. Risk. CRASHes.
The very words that cause an adrenaline-rush in boys (of all ages), just happen to cause this mother and wife to bend her knees (mostly from weakness) and clench her hands in prayer.
Do you remember the “What do you get when you cross
a __________ with a _________ jokes?”
Well I have one for you.
Except that it is not funny:
What do you get when you cross
ideas gained at an air show?
It is best explained with pictures:
others watched with eager anticipation...
image from MayAirFly Pamflet
Yes, that is a motorcycle jumping over a plane.
some of us watched this unfold at home with trepidation...
while others participated with elation...
|Devan - getting ready to |
Please let it be known that the (now thoroughly) Pink Voice in this house approved of neither the contraption nor its use. I’m just saying. Because the Deep-Royal-Blue-Voice-In-Residence did similar crazy blue tricks and stunts when his voice was still Baby Blue... Wheels. Speeeeeed. Heights... It seems inevitable... Boys of boys will be boys.
So, after a number of (mostly failed) "jumps", we ended up with the inevitable face plant, resulting in a mouth full of grass, a bulging upper lip, minor scratches and... a concussion.
The CT scan diagnosis was good news: Pieter thankfully has only a bruised and not a bleeding brain. The bad news is that Pieter now has had his first concussion… the imminent second one being of greater concern to his PT mom.
So to his great disappointment, he is not allowed on wheels or heights for a month (Dr's orders, not pink fear)… but the thrill of finding himself on a Big Wheel Stryker in the hospital was enough to make the queasy-boy-with-headache smile.
And despite all the fried (pink) nerves, dripping (blue) blood and (intimidating black-on-white) ER bills, we too still have reason to smile. In all our emergencies, fairies tend to show up and take care of things on the home front – they clean up the blood, feed the remaining (whole) boys, play, change diapers, conquer my Laundry Monster, do dirty dishes, call, drop by, pray and love us well, far beyond our homecoming with the Wounded One. They go by beautiful names and have hearts overflowing with love and grace.
Dear Fairies, know that you are the hands and feet of Jesus to us, and we are extremely thankful for each one of you. Through you our King reminds us that
"He is before all things and in Him all things hold together... "
[even fried pink nerves and bruised brains]