Sometimes I just need to put things in perspective...for myself. It seems like a good little exercise for those times when I get into the rut of could-a, should-a, would-a, and when I get a mean case of the wants and gimmes.
We don't have a big house, there's not a lot of quiet space here, not a lot of privacy. Sure, it might be nice to have a long hallway, a guest room, a garage. But when my kids are running around the house, I don't have to run far to catch them! And when Sawyer is chatting before he goes to sleep and Eliza is singing in her crib I can sit in the living room and listen. So I'm not complaining.
I've been nursing Eliza for 18 months now. It is tiring, it is demanding, it makes me thirsty, and she has a mouth full of teeth now so...ouch! But there are Moms in the world who don't have enough to eat to make enough milk for their babies. So they're hungry and their babies are hungry. I'm blessed and grateful for what I have and what I can provide. So I'm not complaining.
Dave works 4 nights a week till midnight. It can be a challenge to get both kids fed, bathed, dressed, read-to and tucked in by myself. Then when I'm done, Dave's not here to debrief with. But I can tell Sawyer and Eliza that Daddy will be home when they wake. And I will see him when he comes in (though I'm usually asleep) and we can kiss, hug and be parents together. I don't have to try to explain to my 3 1/2 year old that Daddy is in another country and we hope he's ok and he'll be back in a few months. I have the utmost respect and compassion for those Moms and I'm not complaining.
To quote Natalie Merchant (who by the way I saw perform with 10,000 Maniacs when the opened for REM - yes, I'm dating myself):
"these are the days you'll remember never before and never since, I promise will the whole world be warm as this and as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky it's true, that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you"
Blessed and Lucky and wishing as much for all who wish for as much.
