There are moments in life where you just have to stop and smell the proverbial roses. It happened this morning. As I was stumbling around the house after being up what seemed like 10 times in the night to attend to a sleep deprived little man.
He is mine. All mine. And despite all the wretched shit going on in our lives right now, and the lives of those that we absolutely love, we are absolutely blessed beyond belief. To be able to call my Husband MINE. To be able to come home at night and snuggle with the most incredibly delicious 2 year old I know. He’s ALL MINE. To be able to open my refrigerator, pour myself the largest glass of cold Pinot Grigio. FABULOUS. To be able to get up and go to a job that I do love and that actually appreciates me. BLESSED. To be able to have such good friends that recognize the stress in our lives, so much so that they offer to babysit on a Tuesday night so that you can reconnect for one solid hour with your husband? ABSOLUTELY PRICELESS.
I know this little old blog gets its fair share of bitching. And complaining. And it probably gets really fucking old. Really. I mean, how many times do you want to hear me complain about how tired I am? Or how I am sad because Ryan married that asshat. Or how I had to make an emergency trip to Publix because the box ran dry? Or how I am scared to death that my son will not remember his grandfather. Or how I feel like I am failing as a mother?
Hard to smell the roses when poop is far more potent. You know what I mean? What I’m saying is, thanks for listening to my asinine stories. And thanks for your support. And thanks for giving me the swift kick in the ass (Stephanie via IG) for trying to make me think of the positives. I promise to shit rainbows today instead (no promises for tomorrow though, okay?)…