It’s just been one of those weeks.
You have a moment of inspiration on a Monday night, but you sort of forget, as you’re holding a glass of wine in your right hand, that your laptop is less half a foot below, and that it’s probably not the best idea to raise a glass to the air and then proceed to drop it.
So now you’re really, really grateful for basmati rice from Trader Joe’s, and you’re really, really hopeful that the Apple techs will be able to salvage all those works-in-progress pieces of writing (…and speaking …and manuscript) you had saved to your hard drive instead of to Dropbox.
Meanwhile, you have hard-but-good conversations, the kind that make you grateful for that Thing Called Redemption. Your baby’s slightly sick and you’ve plunged disgustingly gross toilets. You think to yourself, I really don’t get paid enough to deal with this…
Well, you catch my drift.
But then you think to yourself: Honey, it really ain’t so bad.
I mean, you had a bonafide, actual date with the hottest man you know last night:
It was a time in which you connected and ate a meal that didn’t start with a Dino and end with a Nuggets. You’re pressed with big questions, but together, you find a solution.
Then when you go to Parent Happy Hour for your child’s school later that night, and another mama asks you what you do, you respond with the line that rolls off your tongue all butter-like now: Well, I take care of the boys, and I write and speak.
And a smile creeps on to her face. And her response makes you squeal inside:
“Well, that sounds utterly perfect.”
Not only did she say utterly, but she called it like it is: perfect.
Because you get to be with your babies, and you get to see them and know them and love them on a very consistent basis. But then when you get breaks – which you believe in wholeheartedly – you get to follow your passion and use your gifts and follow your fingers as they remind your brain of the story hidden inside all along. You get to study, and close your eyes and think, then, when it’s time, if it’s time, you get to open your mouth and speak, and that – that – is an honor.
But you also get to see this:
You get to see two little dudes absolutely, positively enthralled by the service workers who will soon destroy the street to smithereens.
But really, you don’t mind so much, because they’ve declared it amazing.
“Isn’t that an amazing thing, Frodo? Isn’t that an amazing thing out there, Mama?”
And you’re reminded that yes, yes it is.
Because their new eyes restore your old eyes, along with your heart and your mind and maybe your soul, too. And you wouldn’t trade that for the world.
Yup. A day in the life. A week in the life. But a life worth living, that’s for sure. Tell me of YOUR week. Tell me how YOU’RE making lemonade!