Today has been a very ordinary day. The kids slept in a little, which was nice, and balanced the fact that my daughter woke us up a few times last night. She couldn’t quite get settled for some reason.
My husband has been breaking his back, completing home improvements since breakfast and I took the opportunity to use my solo parenting time to make a target run. Being a Sunday morning, when all parents of young children go shopping of course, no “cool carts” were available and I had to limit my shop to the items that were safe in the basket with my destructor son or on the under shelf of the regular cart. Inconvenience, sure. Not tragic, though. We all took it in stride and the shopping went off without a hitch.
We had hot dogs for lunch, played like champs and (as I write this) my kids are currently in their cribs for their mid day nap/rest. My son is snoring and my daughter is objecting mildly, but there’s no shock in that reality. Napping has never been an easy process in this house.
Why am I telling you this? Because I just spoke to a friend of mine who didn’t have very good news regarding the medical and emotional health of his family. Instead of having the luxury of an ordinary day, his day will be spent with worry and concern. The current crisis is not the end for them, it’s part of an ongoing situation that has plagued them for quite some time and may continue to do so for quite some time into the future. My heart breaks for them, and it reminds me to appreciate what I have.
1- I have a husband who is in good health, both physically and mentally. While I, a natural worrier, don’t ever totally relax in this current reality, I do appreciate that there are no realistic, imminent threats to this fact.
2- I have a large extended family that is in good health and live lives that enable them to enjoy some of what they want, in addition to what they require for basic survival.
3- I have two children who are developmentally normal, show no signs of special needs and have all the necessary intelligence and confidence to drive me totally mad on a regular basis. (Being born so early, this was not necessarily a given approximately 2.5 years ago.)
4- My husband’s job allows us to enjoy a financial state that, while we aren’t going on fancy vacation or buying fancy cars, does allow us to feed our family well without major concern.
Ultimately, I have the luxury of mild complaint when the stars don’t align to my complete liking. This is a luxury, not a right. When I lay down to sleep tonight, my most significant complaint will be the necessity for a second shopping trip. Big friggin’ deal. “Grow up, get over it, act your age! “
Thinking about my friends, recognizing this luxury makes me want to cry, both in sadness and appreciation. I hope and pray for them, that this luxury becomes theirs soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment