When Mark is gone...

Tonight involved an incident that was cause for some serious work, and then some reflection...

I was putting the kids to bed (see former post on this issue).  So kids were in bed and I was on my computer in their room while they sort of schlumped around... probably took them a good 20-30 minutes for them to knock off.

Well, a lot of water can run out of a toilet in 20-30 minutes.  Somehow that bobbing ball thing wasn't doing its job, and there was water flowing out of the hole of the toilet.  I mean flowing... I basically had half and inch of water in the bathroom, down the hall, all over the floor in our bedroom.  A royal pain in my bottom.   But after throwing down five towels and ringing them out for about 30 minutes, I came up with these various reasons I'm grateful.

1. My kids were asleep.
2. I was drying up "clean" water, not vomit, not pitchers of apple juice, etc.
3. I have concrete and tile floors.
4. I am physically able to clean up a serious mess.
5. Mark was not at home so I did not spout off and "blame" him for life's inevitable bobbing blunders
6. It is january in Uganda and the five sopping towels will dry in the sun tomorrow.
7. I have many things contained in plastic containers (under the bed); my dad was just commenting on the fact that we have toys/stuff in orderly containers.  Go OCD!
8.  The bookshelf I got recently has "feet" so the water did not get to the books in our room.

I do find that "things" seem to happen when one is a single parent.  And I think of single parents and know that they are often occupied with their child/children in such a fashion that they don't notice the water rolling down the hallway until its too late.  And they may not blame someone else; but I bet they are very, very tired.

And this incident doesn't compare with what happened to Mark last year when I travelled with my sister to help take her newly adopted daughter home to North Carolina.  Our beloved nanny was very pregnant and during my absence, Mark was working and watching kids at night.  One night, while I was gone, the labor began and Mark spent several days making sure that the delivery did not end up with death of mother or baby (more common here than you'd like), and that our children 6,3, and 2 were not total basket cases.   Meanwhile, I was cruising around Morehead city in my sister's car, picking up a caramel machiato-- trying to give my sister some time and space to bond and be in charge with her daughter in her home.

Anyway, I'm thankful to generally parent with someone else, but also grateful that in the big scheme of things we have blessed as we are--with family, with material resources, with humor and dry weather and concrete floors, and sleeping children and a healthy Dorothy and healthy baby jean (more to come on that family unit).