Learn from it. Or at least be grateful.

I feel like I've slowly crawled out from under a very dark, very deep, very uncomfortable hole in the ground.  A respiratory infection, bronchial misery, fever and coughing fits. . . hole.

It all started two weeks ago on Friday before the football game.  My throat felt itchy, my voice started to go.  I didn't feel sick, but something was definitely off.  Allergies, I thought.  For sure. Because. . . Oklahoma.  And maybe God didn't want me to be able to yell at the football game anyway, right?

I don't know when it clicked that I was sick.  I was SO tired after the football game.  So.  Tired.  But I had been unusually tired lately.  And why not?

Maybe during the night?  I'm not sure exactly when, but I went from "I don't feel so hot" to "I'm dying" in about an hour.  Haven't been that sick and miserable in years.  Spent all day Saturday in bed sleeping.  Then I couldn't breathe anymore so I couldn't sleep Saturday night and most of Sunday.  Tossing and turning and coughing and wheezing and wondering what would happen if I did actually stop breathing.  Would I be able to wake the Coach?  He's a pretty sound sleeper.

Thanks to our wonderful doctor and some meds on Sunday night, I perked up enough by Monday (holiday, of course) to get sort of ready for the school week.  Even managed a little bit of a walk on Tuesday after the kids left for school.

But something about volleyball and road trips to Tulsa and another football game and just. so. tired.

13 days later I'm finally feeling somewhat back to normal.

I think the lesson here is that when you are completely and totally worn out?  Even the smallest little thing can knock you flat.

And maybe another lesson is that running with my Coach at 5am isn't for me.  I don't know how he does it.

And one more?  Turns out you can't go and go and go and not suffer the consequences.

I've been taking it easier this week.  Resting more.  Running around less.  Not running at all (workout wise).  I'll pay for it at some point.  The list is long and getting longer.

Maybe the greatest lesson of all?  I don't have this whole thing figured out.  This mom/eight kids/college/senior/high school/junior high/grade school/football/volleyball/wife/homemaker thing.  It's a lot.  And "balance" (whatever that is) is illusive.   Even when I have the best Coach and great kids and the most wonderful family and everyone is doing well.

But on the bright side?  While I was sick?  The Coach and the kids handled the house, the yard work, the extra lawns, the hosting family at the farm for the holiday, the laundry, meals, schoolwork. . .

And they did it all beautifully.

So maybe it's not so bad, after all.  Now that I can breathe.


Happy Wednesday.