I feel like right this second I need to be grateful because I have just plain had a shitty night. P. spiked a sudden fever this afternoon, complaining of a headache but that's it. The mister's train was delayed by more than an hour so she spent a lot of time alone, curled up under the covers of her bed, because I was dealing with Bo's bedtime.
Once the mister did get home and Bo finally went to sleep and I was halfway to being off the hook, I knocked a glass of red wine onto the floor. Tiny glass shards went everywhere. Wine got on all the toys that on any other night would have already been tucked away. And the glass was the last of my really nice stemware (the rest of which have suffered a similar fate).
There was more. Eating dinner when I should be going to bed. The tax packet we ought to have been finishing. I'm tired. I won't get to exercise. Chances are that one or the other kid is going to wake up in the middle of the night crying, "Mama!" since lately it has been one or the other.
But it could be so, so much worse. We have a house and a car and we go places and do things. Every now and then I'm feeling sorry for myself and someone in my social circle will share a blog post or a news clip or something else that feels like it custom picked to remind me that being tired and having a few wine stains isn't the end of the world.
And then I look around and remember I am blessed.
My kids love each other, my husband loves me, and together we're all figuring this whole life thing out. Maybe there are a few bumps in the road now and then but I guess that's what makes it all so interesting.
So what if it's also the stuff that drives me crazy?
Today I say to you, stop. Take a look around. And if you're having an especially shitty night (or day) take the time to count your blessings. Please and thank you.