Where credit is due

After reading that last post about having Stephen around on a Sunday, I realize it sounds like I normally do everything on my own while he's handling his bishopric duties.  Not true.  Not true at all, in fact.  Sure, we miss him in the morning and afternoon when it is just the four of us at home, but the hardest part of Sunday--right before, during, and after church--is survived only because we have so much help from the amazing Liz Boyd. 

She comes down at 8:30 in the morning, utterly exhausted from just having worked twelve hours at the hospital (oftentimes her second or third night shift in a row, mind you) to change poopy diapers, dress squirmy kids, pack up snacks, comb and gel snarly hair, and generally save the day.  Then she sits through sacrament meeting with us, playing, reading, disciplining, and putting up with my hooligan children, when I'm sure she'd rather just put her head down and take a well-earned nap like all the other tired folks in the chapel.  It's not over, either.  She drops off and picks up Millie from nursery so I can take care of the sunbeams in primary, she comes home and puts Millie down for a a nap while I feed the boys lunch, and then for the first time all day gets to think about her own needs and wants.

Let's be honest.  If it weren't for Liz, I would very likely be one of those stories:  "She went inactive after her husband got called into the bishopric.  All very strange. . .  people say she used to come to church regularly, but now that he's so busy and she has those three crazy kids to take care of herself, well, she just can't do it."  There is no way I could survive Sundays without her.  Plain and simple.  Heck, I couldn't survive most days without her.  She is my daily dose of adult sanity, my late afternoon support when I feel ready to throw in the towel with my kids and their attitudes, my sounding board for so many ridiculous things that she patiently puts up with sans complaint, my BF who goes so far above and beyond the call of duty that I get overwhelmed with gratitude just thinking about it. 



With her cousin in D-land

 Her move out here a few years ago, although at the time it was a decision for and about her own life, has blessed my life and my little family more than I ever could have imagined.  I feel like the Lord inspired that decision for both of us.  So here's giving credit where credit is due.  To the kind, generous, patient, funny, smart, hard-working  gal who saves my bacon every Sunday morning and then some.