Yesterday morning, I was convinced I was being punked. Or Punk’d. Or on that show Prank My Mom.
Because despite all our efforts towards being better organized this school year, nothing seemed to go right.
My oldest had a homework assignment we didn’t discover until breakfast time.
My middle son was sleeping late thanks to not being able to fall asleep the night before.
My youngest grabbed his butt and screamed that he need to poop NOW right as we should have been getting into the van.
The toilet then overflowed.
Middle refused to get out of the van in the drop-off circle.
When youngest and I stopped at the store to grab something for his lunch, the store was closed due to a “system failure.”
Other grocery store had items in weird places so it took us forever to find what we needed.
Then someone with an overflowing grocery cart appeared out of nowhere to jump in front of us in the only lane that was open while I was distracted by grabbing a Mountain Dew from the cooler.
To top it all off, when I got home from drop offs, I stepped in cat pee since apparently one of my boys closed the door to the room where the cat’s litter is kept.
And I said a few choice words that I’m glad my boys weren’t around to hear over my craptastic morning.
Really? I thought. All this on a Monday morning when Mondays are always busy with work? When this is just the start of another busy week, this is how it kicks off? What the heck?
What a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning.
And then it hit me.
My morning was not that bad.
My morning was full of minor inconveniences and events that I would spin into a funny blog post where we all commiserate about tough parenting days- at least, that’s what I’d do with it if this were any other day.
But, it was not a terrible morning.
All of my kids were safe.
There was no fear that we’d be attacked.
No thoughts that our world had radically changed.
No lives were lost.
Looking back at the events of eleven years ago today, it puts it all into perspective.
So I’ll push aside my small complaints and remember those whose lives were lost on September 11, 2001 and in the aftermath.
Those who lost love ones.
Those who have fought to defend our country and keep us safe, so that eleven years later, I’m not fearing for my family’s safety and my worries are all trivial.