We were gone for 14 hours last Saturday, spending a full day with family celebrating Baby Lala’s baptism. It was a fantastic day, but a long one and I was bound and determined to spend my Sunday at home catching up on the multitude of things I had to do. We all got up bright and early on Sunday and the Hubs soon left to go pick up the dog from the kennel. The kids were doing great playing, so I decided to take a quick shower while they were busy.
While I was in the shower, the Bean had managed to dump out every drawer in her room as well as our coat closest. She told me she packing her things to go to Church. Now, while I appreciated her initiative, I didn’t appreciate the extra work she just laid at my feet. So when a friend called to see if we wanted to go to a nearby lake for the rest of the morning to go swimming, I jumped at the chance because clearly my kids were not in the cleaning mood.
When we got to the lake, another family was pulling in with kids right around Scorch’s age. A while later at the water’s edge, the other mom and I started making small talk like two strangers do when their kids are playing. In the course of the conversation, this mom told me that her child, who is 5 like Scorch, had his 6th heart attack just two weeks prior. I had to ask her to repeat herself because I was sure I mis-heard her. 5 years don’t have heart attacks- let alone a multitude of them. Sadly, I had heard her correctly- her child was born with a congenital heart defect and had his first attack when he was 2.
Later that night I was laying in bed telling the Hubs about the family we met and I couldn’t stop thinking of how freaking lucky my family is. I spent a lot of time over the past month complaining about the Virus from Hell and the Bean’s demonic possession, but the fact of the matter is, my family is healthy and I love them with everything I have. I can’t imagine how this other family goes through life making the most of everything, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop.
While I can’t promise to get less frustrated or not to yell because as much as I love my little people, they make me crazy- I can promise you that I’ll be that much more appreciative of them now. I can promise to try to find the humor in watching the Bean try to stuff a pile of clothes as big as her into a teeny-tiny backpack. I can promise I won’t tell my kids that I’ll play with them later because I have to pick up/do laundry/put the dishes away. I can promise to tell my kids each and every day how much I love them and how lucky I am to have them.