I’m sitting here writing this blog post with a head cold, drinking my millionth cup of tea with honey, just willing the cold to go away.
I am the worst patient ever. Instead of rolling with being sick, I just want to be angry that I’m really sick and want everyone around me to know how angry I am that I’m sick. Hey, have you heard? I. AM. SICK. AND. I. HATE. IT.
This coming week we have two large weddings coming up. I CAN NOT afford to be sick. So Chris and Lincoln are at Grandma’s house swimming on this last summer day, and I’m stuck inside watching Golden Girls, wallowing in all my negative feelings.
This is the reality of our farm. Mucking through a lot of muck to get to the beauty.
There’s beauty in the mess of figuring it out while trying really hard to maintain your dignity and professionalism on the internet.
There’s beauty in showing people that you’re real, you didn’t get it on the first try, and we’re all floating around on this blue marble trying to figure it out.
There’s beauty in listening to your husband’s advice about maybe instead of yelling at your son to stop picking up the kitties wrong, you stop and teach him how to do it correctly instead.
There’s beauty about a husband who continues to take your photo after you tell him, “no, all wrong.” “Yuck, don’t get my yoga pants, no one wants to see that.” “Uhg, this shirt is making me so hot! Why is it still so hot?!”
There’s beauty in being silly, being yourself, and knowing when to pause when you’ve reached your limit. Even if the decision is hard, even if your body is telling you it’s time to take a break, even if you’re still angry that your sore throat hasn’t gotten better in the past hour.
It’s all hard and it takes effort. And there’s beauty in that.