Sometimes, sitting alone in the car and eating an entire chocolate bar by yourself is just what the doctor ordered. Because when you finish it, the silver lining is so clear.
As you know, we’re in the process of moving. And, my daughter has decided that she will no longer wear diapers or keep food on plates or in bowls. So, needless to say, my day was one stretch of cleaning up mess after mess, lost in a sea of boxes and packing papers. I know so many of you are reading with the “me, too” head nod. This is just a day in the life.
It was a good day, really, filled with some of my favorite things–long walks with my kids, iced coffee, and a sunny day. But the weight and stress of all the other stuff got to me, as it can and does to us all from time to time. So I escaped to Target when my husband got home to buy basic things like underwear and orange juice. It was another mundane activity, but I was so happy to do it. The people who work there know me by now and asked for my children by name (ha!). I was alone and basked it it, as I took my time without worrying about popcorn being thrown. I leisurely looked at underwear and shower curtains and to top it off, I picked up a candy bar in the check-out lane.
I sat in the car and as I ate the candy bar, I reflected a bit on my day. I am packing and that’s stressful, but this is a happy time. We are moving to a home we’re so lucky and excited to own–that home with a view of the mountains and wide, open spaces for my children.
My daughter won’t wear her diaper, but she’s basically potty training herself. She’s determined to do it and I need to remember that her fierce and independent nature will serve her well in this world. And I’m so thankful for her spirit. She tests me day after day, but I’m all the better for it. She’s taught me so much.
She might throw her food, but I’m lucky to be able to feed her healthy foods and even food at all. I can run out and buy milk and orange juice, quinoa and blueberries. And eventually, she will stop this. It’s a phase and I need to remember that. Her brother, five years older, is a physical reminder to me of how quickly this all goes….
Today, I needed a time out of my own, in my car in a parking lot with a chocolate bar. And honestly, it helped me gain my perspective again. This life might be messy sometimes–literally and figuratively–but it’s wonderfully and gloriously mine. My kitchen might have smashed blueberries and quinoa on the floor right now as I sit and type this in the dark, but I can hear the breath of a small boy as he breathes, finally and peacefully asleep. And there it is: the silver lining of the candy wrapper. This life. Messy but mine.
Thanks for Mothering the Divide with me as we all try to see our silver linings.