RD's birthday, our anniversary, and Labor Day are all within a week of each other, but this year RD was also on call. On call is being available for "emergencies", which ranges from 'I broke up with my partner,' to recently assaulted, to suicidal with means and a plan, and everything between. It's really supposed to be for suicidal or homicidal emergencies. On call, for the second time since we've moved here, for the first full week we were back in town, over his birthday and Labor Day.
It stunk.
He got eight calls in total, when 0-2 is usually the most one gets. He got the most there's ever been in a week. They usually come at night, but this week they came all hours of the day from Thursday through Monday. Reese finally didn't have a soccer game that weekend, but we couldn't go hiking cause RD was on call. So we decided to paint the downstairs ceiling. A half hour into it, after we had prepped and I had edged and RD was about five feet in, he got a call. Since paint doesn't stay wet for anyone, I took over. His call required him to go to the hospital, so for the next several hours Reese took care of the kids while I struggled to paint the whole living room/dining room/kitchen/hall ceiling. At one point when it seemed to be going so slow and my shoulders/arm were sore I wondered how it'd get all done, but what else was there to do, it just had to get done. I was worried the paint would run out, and was feeling worn out, so I knelt and said a prayer for help, and to not get annoyed if it didn't work out. I know paint's not that important, but I'm important to God, so I asked. I got it done, and the paint I thought would run out had almost a gallon left over. I got paint flecks all over my face, and my shoulders were so sore it hurt to pass the sour cream at dinner the next day, but I got it done, and cleaned out all the paint supplies by the time RD got home several hours later.
He got home and I got done just in time for us to grab a couple smoothies for dinner and make it to the Timpanogos Storytelling festival, our first time going. We sat on the lawn, across from the mountains, and laughed and laughed at some of the performers telling their stories. Kevin from Minnesota and Bill from West Virgina were just hilarious, their art of relating their tales was incredible. We both talked going home about how that night under the stars we each independently felt like this was home, it just felt different, natural, being here.
The next day was RD's birthday, and as we were lighting the candles on RD's peach cobbler, he got another call.
:(
Happy Birthday?!
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