Meet Mr. AWESOME Mom

I went in for foot surgery on Friday morning and, a week later, I am finally taking slow steps with only one crutch. I've been on my back with my foot in the air, on pain meds, reading nice books, sleeping, and drinking lemonade (OK, not that far, but you get the picture). Pretty much, I have done absolutely NOTHING around the house.

And the new and improved Mr. Mom has stepped up to the plate. And in the process, he's made me look bad because of how awesome he is. Dang it! But not at all surprising.

For a week, he's taken over the car pool, changed every diaper, taken kids to scouts, activity days, the park, out to lunch, visited the school kids for lunch, played basketball, flown kites, played games, made sack lunches, helped with homework, preschool outings, read stories, made and served breakfast, lunch, and dinner, cleaned up breakfast, lunch, and dinner, picked up the house, taken all 6 kids grocery shopping (something I would pay NOT to do), tucked in kids at bedtime, laundry, more park outings, dealt with kids through the night, stomach flu with three kids, throw-up in car seats, on carpets, beds, more laundry and cleaning up, etc. . .

The list goes on. Yes, I usually do all that stuff when I'm up and healthy. But the thing that has amazed me is that John has done it with a song and a smile, always happy, always asking "who needs help, how are you feeling, what can I do more. . . " I'm not sure I can say that about myself. He's been a dream. My appreication for him has risen to a new level this week.

Two incisions were made, each about 3 inches long. Bone was removed, other bone was cut and straightened, pins were put in to hold things together, and tendons were reattached. And I am feeling better by the day. Getting board and antsy, and ready to put on my running shoes again. But that won't be for a while.

In the meantime, I'll enjoy reading some great books and let my foot heal. And call a cleaning lady to do the deep stuff that only women see or notice. That's where the "Mr." in Mr. Mom comes in. . .

Man, I love him.