The Good Life

At my son's preschool the parents drive up to the door and the kids are brought right to the car (best idea ever - I don't even have to get out of my seat!). As I pull up, Max walks from the school to his car door, holding the hand of the volunteer parent helping out that day. He's got his baseball cap on and his huge Cars backpack bouncing behind him. Each time I see him walking towards the car I forget about the tantrums, the hitting his sister, the dirt dragged through my kitchen and I think Oh my goodness! That's my little boy! I get to have him as my little boy!

I have moments like that with my daughters and my husband, too. Wade and I will tag-team grocery shopping with the kids and as I turn a corner and see him looking at string cheese I'll realize that I'm married to him; I get to spend the rest of my life with that guy. Sophie, at her first track meet, came in last for every event but with the biggest smile on her face. I was so proud that she is my daughter. And when I get Lily from her crib in the morning and she smiles up at me, my heart melts.

But all too often I'm feeling sorry for myself for one silly reason or another. My life is ruined because Young and the Restless is bumped for Wimbledon or the State of the Union Address. I'm devastated because Wade ate the leftovers I was going to have for lunch. Or because the vacuum cord gets tangled. Or because the light turns red. Or because, heaven help me, my coffee maker stops working.

Am I the only one who gets so over-dramatic? Honestly, the track playing in my head as I feel the tug of the tangled cord on my Kirby, or I see the green light turn red, is so tragic. Why is this happening to me? This always happens to me. I can't believe I have to deal with this on top of everything else! Why? Sometimes I actually stop and laugh at myself in the midst of my pity party. I get so caught up in the frustration and drama and then it dawns on me how ridiculous I sound.

Every day on the news are families that have lost their homes or kids that have been kidnapped. Innocent children caught in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting. Parents arrested for neglect and abuse. That's not to mention people all over the world who don't have food or shelter and whose stomachs are bloated from malnutrition. Whole countries living in fear of their government or mother nature.

And I don't need to look that far from my home (and I thank God that I have one). I know several people who have had miscarriages, infertility, high risk pregnancies, and babies born prematurely who spend weeks or months in the hospital. I have friends who have been been laid off, or who's spouse has been sent to Iraq or Afghanistan. Friends who have lost a parent who was far too young to die. Friends who have fought cancer, and thankfully survived.

I am so blessed. And when I take the time to notice my healthy family and my comfortable home I am able to see that. Then I have to ask myself why, but that's a post for another day. I suppose anyone standing outside of my life looking in would think I have it pretty good. And they would be right. I just forget sometimes.