Ouch.

Ugh.

Poof. My entire, ready to publish post, just disappeared. Got to love that.

It's been an expensive week.

I was dicing potatoes. The cutting board was wet and the potatoes slippery. In less than the blink of an eye, the potato slipped and I sliced my finger instead of the potato. Blood gushed, the room spun, and I leaned over the sink, terrified and unsure if I could stomach what I would see.

T was at work. All three little ones were home with me.

I kept my finger under running water for a few minutes. MW called the neighbor. Not home.

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang. I was, once again, utterly convinced of the tenderness of God. It was T, calling to see if I needed him to pick anything up on his way home from work.

We talked. I told him I was keeping pressure on it, but if I let up, it was still bleeding pretty good.

Long story short and many phone calls later...my dear friend, Mrs. Nurse, and her daughter came over and took care of the children until T came home. Before they arrived, MW propped my feet up on the coffee table, and covered them with the ironed linen towels from the guest bathroom. Little man climbed up on our bathroom counter and "washed my hair in de sink." Whatever.

I was to keep pressure on my finger until our friend Dr. Eyes (he's an eye doctor) showed up with a left over tube of derma-bond (it was new to me...like super glue for skin) to glue my finger back together. T came home and Mrs. Nurse handed a peaceful MC over to him. Baby immediately began screaming and continued screaming until Dr. and Mrs. Eyes and their children arrived, only minutes later, at which time Mrs. Eyes took MC from T and had her settled in seconds. Meanwhile, the children lined up in the kitchen to watch. I turned my head away while Dr. Eyes put on his super spectacles and tucked the "flesh" back in and glued it all together.

All in all it took him about five minutes. I had to keep my finger dry for five days. And...I have a new found respect for people with one hand. Wow. I mean, WOW.

At the time, I thought I had no feeling in my finger due to the glue...it's been over five days now. Still, no feeling. I hear that's pretty common. I'm just thankful Dr. Eyes could make the repairs and I got to avoid stitches. And I'm super thankful for our friends!

A few days later I put on a pot of water to boil. The children got in a knock down drag out requiring parental involvement. Thinking I'd be gone a few minutes I left the water on the stove. I came back down to a strange smell...and flecks of fire in the pot with the non stick surface bubbling. Lovely. Almost eight years of cooking in that pan and I'd never done anything like that.

A few days after that I went "thrifting" with a friend. But first, I need to tell you that "old faithful," the stroller we've used for the last five and a half years, has finally given it up. The back wheel was literally about to come off. Between gifts and a bit of our own saving, we'd just purchased a new stroller. That. I. LOVE!!! I've never done anything baby not neutral (you know, being practical and all). Until this. I bought a raspberry pink stroller.

So anyway, we went thrifting. I broke out the stroller on our first stop. We prepared to leave. I loaded the kids, hopped in the car, put her in reverse...CRUNCH. That sinking feeling. She was bent up a bit, had a hole in the seat and a big cut on the handle...but I'd make lemonade out of this lemony situation. I'd just sew up a little seat cover and glue the handle back together. I'd bite my tongue. I would have a good attitude. (And I'm thankful for the accountability of my friend. Short of her presence, I'm certain a few unpleasantries would've escaped my lips...ok, a lot of not nice things.)

I told T.

He was so gracious and kind.

He got home, took one look, and said, "I think we just need to get you a new one."

He had me stand behind it. It's pretty warped.

I insisted I'd be ok with it. I'd make it work. So what if you have to force it to close...I'd make it work.

He told me it might "pull" a bit.

I put MC in and it became immediately apparent I'd need both hands and a strong arm to push her in a straight line.

For now, she's resting in a closet. The stroller, that is. I guess we'll add "stroller" in our budget come January.

For now, I'm thankful MC is content in the baby bjorn...and I'm super thankful for a husband who is so kind and gracious, who looked me in the eyes with a smile on his face and tenderness in his voice and told me he was happy to save for another.

Sunday night we went to a service of thanks at church. There was an open mic time for members to share what they're thankful for...before I knew what was happening, MW and little man were high tailing it for the front of the sanctuary. That would be the same five year old and two year old who, earlier that day, had made their own list of things they were thankful for. "Boogers to pick" made the top five. I was SO NERVOUS about what they'd say. Like, cold sweat nervous.

MW reached the front and took the mic, but little man ran past her and climbed the steps up onto the "stage." Y'all, I thought he was going for the pulpit...turns out he just wanted to speak from the top step. MW went first and said, "I'm thankful for my dog and my mama and my brother whose name is T3." Then little man took the mic and said, "I'm pankpul per my mama." And then they ran down that aisle, back to our pew...

Precious. Pure preciousness.

Happy Thanksgiving!