This was me last night:
Thanks to my husband. He's my number one blessing. We got this bucket with the intent purpose of soaking feet in it. Last night after working, teaching, and a wedding consultation, it was 9:30 and I had a serious case of the cankles. He poured the water and then offered to put ice cubes in it for me if it wasn't cold enough. He has taken the back seat for so many months now. I can't wait to spoil HIM again.
My number two blessing are these people:
My family is my number two blessing. A few years back, my dad lost his job and took a huge pay cut. Like half. And in the past he was able to help us out if we needed it, but now he can't and I know he feels poorly about that. Which he shouldn't. But he does. His health has failed considerably since then, maybe out of worry, maybe out of age. But he does what it takes to get the job done, and I have learned that from him. Do what it takes to make it work.
My sister is 18, and she's slowly becoming a beautiful young woman. Our tastes and personalities are different, but I wish I had an ounce of her "devil may care" attitude sometimes. She's not afraid to speak her mind.
My mom is the hardest worker I know. She's not afraid to get her hands dirty, and has tried her best to instill that in me. But I do wear gloves... It's been a long time coming, that I could have a relationship with my mom, but I view her as a woman now and not just a mommy, and that's been the key to our friendship.
My number three blessing is my little son. Because he has kept me praying, and dreaming, and wishing, and hoping. He has enlarged my faith that all things are possible. He has kept me expectant on God. From the girl with PCOS who they said wouldn't conceive without a little help, to getting pregnant on the first try, to having a healthy little guy in there...it almost seems like a dream. He moves and he kicks and he responds to my voice. He already knows me and loves me. He is the ultimate miracle.
Those are my blessings. My support group. As I think I have it bad, sweating through this pregnancy, feet in a bucket, TRYING to get comfortable, I think of all the women who wish they had a Handsome Husband to bring them a bucket of water. As I struggle with mood swings and hormone changes, sore breasts and constipation, I think of all the women who would give anything to feel those changes as they struggle to conceive. As I get frustrated with my family and my inlaws, I think of the women who have lost parents, who will cry extra tears on the day their child is born, wishing those people would be there to see their grandchild.
I. Am. Blessed.