Grateful... I Am Exhausted...
By Rochel Harris

This morning I participated in a scientific experiment; can a woman who is operating on very little sleep and still recovering from a C-section (baby is now two weeks old) greet her family with a smile on her face and a grateful heart?

The verdict is still out. I smiled. I said thank you. But I'm not sure they bought it. They just kind of stared back at me like I was wearing my pajamas while riding the bus. Okay... I was in my pajamas, but the bus doesn't stop in my living room.

I think it was my tone.

I said "Thank you," but what they heard was 'I'd rather do it myself next time.' Well, that's what I was thinking anyway. For the last two weeks I've been getting "help" from my husband, kids, parents, neighbors and friends and I guess I miss doing things for myself, or more specifically, doing things "my way."

This afternoon went much better. Before I handed out the next thank you I concentrated on what life would be like if I wasn't getting all of this help. I focused specifically on the help I'm getting from my husband. Although he wouldn't characterize it as help... he sees us as partners and he's just doing what he can to keep our leaky ship afloat.

I noticed he did a couple of loads of laundry. I imagined no one doing the laundry (I'm not allowed to lift anything heavier than the baby for another whole month - so laundry has come to a bit of a standstill.) I imagined the kids going to school in dirty clothes, unbathed (he's been bathing the little ones as well), without lunches (an extra bonus of afterbirth is being off lunch patrol!), without signed permission slips or completed homework for that matter (all under my regular domain). My mind continues to wander down this scenario's path... the children are scolded by their teachers, ostracized by their friends, social workers are dispatched to investigate the functionality of our family. I break free in a cold sweat from the vivid nightmare of my children being carted off by social services and my house being condemned. Wow, sleep deprivation yields a highly active imagination.

I refocus my eyes and see my husband folding the clean clothes and trying his best to figure out which drawers to put everything in. I see him doing a task he's not properly trained in nor particularly interested in (okay, NO ONE is really interested in doing the laundry). I see him doing it with a smile on his face... and the gratitude starts to flow through me. First I feel it in my heart and I swell with love and appreciation, both to my husband for being so great and to G-d for giving me such a helpful husband. Then it flows through all of my limbs and eventually turns the corners of my mouth upwards. My husband glances at me and innocently asks "What?" I continue to smile and simply say, "Thanks." He smiles back, a knowing grin, perhaps wondering if I'll rearrange all of the drawers properly during one of the night time feedings. But I won't. Each time a kid puts on socks that are too big or too small it will be a wonderful reminder that I have what to be grateful for.

A Cool Convenience