We Can Do Hard Things

Don't get me wrong, I love blogs. But sometimes I think that the blogs I read have authors who never have anything bad happen to them. That all they have are cute fat babies and beautiful homes and nice husbands and families with one million siblings and sunny lives. But I know that can't be true, and I don't want you all to think that I have the sunniest of lives (because apparently strangers read this thing, which still blows my mind).

So instead, I'm giving you all a bit of blog reality today.

This week sucked the big one.

This week, I hoped to regale you with tales of my Staycation. And my new running shoes. And my new birthday Kindle that Fiance got me that I love. And I was going to try my new Jillian Michael's DVD and tell you how bad I was at it (because I know I'll be bad).

But that's not in the cards this week. Because this is what my week, and my family's week has looked like.

Not to go into details, my family hasn't had much luck with hospitals in the past few years. But if this week taught us anything, its that there is at least one other corridor filled with families just like ours.

During our first intimate (and prolonged) hospital experience two summers ago, my Mom said something to me and my sister that I think about all the time in situations like we find ourselves in this week.

"We're a strong family. We can do hard things." 

And so we are.

Might be a little quiet here for the next few days and we all sure could use some good thoughts sent to Brooklyn. Also, how sexy does my baby sister look in a sterile gown? She should totally be a surgeon but refuses to go to medical school, geeze.

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