Today is Dan’s birthday. I miss having plans to do something special for him. Instead I have plans to do something for myself. I’m not really sure that this is an improvement, Lord.
Anyway, I’m going shopping for some non-maternity clothes. I’ve spent an hour or two on the internet getting this stuff done. I’ve got a basketball game to go to (my brother’s) tonight provided the weather holds out. I have a baby sitter for all the kids except Caleb, and I am planning on doing some banking stuff with my dad somewhere in all that mess. It will be enough to keep me busy, but I still wish that I was making plans for a Danny date instead.
3 a.m. I’m chilled. If Dan was here I would snuggle right up next to him, he would put his arms around me – even in his sleep – and I would be warm in no time. “You promised to be my husband, Lord . . .”
3:30 a.m. I’m done feeding Caleb and he’s cuddled up to me . . . nice and warm.
3:45 a.m. Payden has been squirming around but has finally settled down at my back with his head on my hip. . . nice and warm.
4:00 a.m. Maranatha wakes up and wants to come cuddle. I get her settled in at my feet . . . nice and warm.
There you go, Liisa. How’s that for cuddled up nice and warm?
“Funny, Lord. The feet was a nice touch, but you missed a spot. My shoulders are still cold.” =)
I am SO jealous!!!
Heaven is supposed to be such a comfort, (and my dad is right in that the alternative would be awful and that in that sense heaven is a comfort) but I really am having a problem with it right now. Dan is flaking off on the streets of gold without a care. He dreamed of a big family, but left me with the work and follow through of such a thing while he’s up there chatting away with Moses, Daniel, and Gideon. That would annoy me when he was here on earth, too. He would start a project and somehow I would get stuck with the work of trying to get the task completed. Or maybe I would be doing the work of chasing kids, getting them ready for whatever, while he stood there and chatted with so and so without even a clue as to what was going on around him. And he knows so much, what with being in heaven and all, and he’s not telling me any of it. I told him that if he ever stopped talking to me then I knew I was in trouble. How in the world (lousy choice of words) can he not tell me something when he knows that he’s right. He’s on a first name basis with God for crying out loud! He’s got to know something he’s not telling me.