By about 7 p.m. tonight I had had it. I was done, or wanted to be done with this day. Done with homework and projects and studying between myself and four kids.
Done with trying to get my shit together for tax preparation and definitely done with calling the car insurance company for ceasing my coverage due to a mixup.
Done with trying to give up swearing for Lent. Done with trying to prepare dinner that didn’t come from a Taco Bell drive thru.
Done with the neck pain I have that won’t go away.
Done with being the chauffer to and from everywhere especially goalkeeper practice and gymnastics and being in the car for what felt like an eternity burning the tank of gas I filled just the other day. It all gets the better of me some days.
I know so many single parents who feel the same, too. Shit do I feel you.
I pulled into the garage tonight and after dragging in the trash cans for the umpteenth time by myself, I thought about something I heard on a podcast this morning.
This guy—whose series focuses on mindfulness and meditation (FYI it has yet to “work” on me since I think pessimists are immune) said no matter what trials and life challenges I’m likely facing right now in this moment—there are at least a billion people in the world who’d willingly trade places with me in a heartbeat to live it.
Of course he’s right.
Populations of people whose only hope in life is to live without fear of safety for them and their children.
Free of debilitating pain.
Millions of people would delight at a chance to sleep in a bed like mine with a roof like this over their heads or to drive this car to where they need to go.
Countless hungry people would kill for a bite of the leftover food I will scrape into the trash after dinner.
Thousands of parents at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital up the street pray every day for the inconveniences of a life like mine—because it means their children would be healthy.
So many people wake up to get life altering news or a diagnosis that knocks them to their knees and they’ll beg the heavens above for the simple worries they held yesterday. Some won’t wake up at all.