This Is The Moment We've Been Waiting For

Down the street and around the corner lives an elderly man. I would say he's in his 80's possibly a bit older. During the warm months of the year, but not the hot ones, you can almost always find him sitting on his front porch watching and waving at everyone who drives, walks, or bikes by. He doesn't have to recognize you, he waves at everyone. It's as if he has not a care in the world except to sit and enjoy life as each person passes by him. 

I often think of all the people he's seen drive by his front porch. Their seemingly busy lives. The events they've attended after passing his porch, the sadness, the happiness, the triumphs, and the losses his waves might've welcomed or bid farewell to. During the winter, I find myself missing this man on his porch and all the waves he's given as I've passed. My children even know to wave now, and they get a bit sad when he's not outside. I've decided, I want to be that man. The one on the porch. I want to be so content with life that all I want to do with my day is enjoy some nice, quiet, relaxing time sitting on my porch while watching and waving as people pass. 

We all have things we dislike about our lives or ourselves. We wish we could make more money, lose more weight, have a cleaner house, better behaved children. I'm sure there's at least one thing someone would like to improve upon (if you don't have one thing, then skip along, this blog isn't for you). Now, I'm not saying it's not healthy to want to improve yourself or your life. I'd personally love to lose a couple pounds, have a bigger/cleaner house, and obviously make more money. What I'm saying is that, maybe we need to be content enough with what we have right in front of us that spending a day on our porch doesn't throw the rest of our day/week/month out of whack. We need to spend more time living IN the moment instead of living FOR a moment that we will probably be too worried about the next moment to enjoy. 

I can't even begin to think of how many times I wished my week away for the weekend just to spend the weekend worrying about work on Monday. Or the number of times I've gone out to an event that  I've spent months looking forward to only to spend that time worrying about something else and missing the joy and happiness I could've been experiencing. 

When my son was born, my husband was in the Police Academy and gone from Sunday at 5pm to Friday at 8pm. I spent my weeks wishing for the weekend so much so that I vaguely remember what my son was like from 2 months to 6 months. Instead of enjoying the evenings I got with just me and my children, I spent most of them crying, and wishing it was over. 

I can't get those 4 months back, I never will, but I can put my foot down and say no more wishing for the next. I will begin, starting right now, living in the moment, not taking things for granted, and being content with where I am right now. This moment. I will embrace what is my life and strive to make it better while enjoying every moment I get with my beautiful family. We only get one today. One this moment. One right now. Don't worry about the next one, or you'll miss the one right in front of you. 

Judgement Bar: The Glare of Doom

So today started out like any other morning except this bright, big, runny eye ball attached to my 5 year old daughter. As I'm running out the door, I lean in and give her a kiss and tell her ill call the doctor to make her an appointment for later. No big deal, right? At least that's what I thought this morning.

I get to work and made her am appointment for 4:30 this afternoon, thinking maybe my husband could get off a bit early and take her. What I had forgotten was that he had training and that there was no way he was going to be able to do that. Again, no big deal, I'll take her while my mom is still watching my other two. Then work happens. I call and cancel the appointment and set it up for tomorrow morning thinking, "I'm sure it's not that bad, she can make it through the night." Wrong. I get home and her poor eye is so gooey and gunky and red I have to get her to the doctor. Thankfully urgent care is open. Mom has to leave and husband is stuck at work, so I load up my 5, 3, and 1 yr olds and hop into the van. Desperately praying that I survive this trip.

We get loaded up and to the doctors with no hassle. Get inside, get checked in, and the front desk lady asks me if I can "update" the form they keep on file for my daughter. Absolutely, not a problem...so long as you don't mind 3 crazy children running around your waiting room while I'm nose deep into paperwork because there are no toys and the TV you usually have playing cartoons is turned off. I'll get right to that paperwork for you. And it begins.

J, my 2 year old son, won't sit down. Actually, he'd much rather stand. Not on floor, but in the chair or on the table. C, my 1 year old daughter, is infatuated with the fish, but would also like to take a quick stroll down the back hallway while I've got my nose into this paperwork that just desperately needs to be filled out. M, the 5 year old daughter and my oldest, is moaning about how she doesn't feel good in the chair next to me while trying to "mommy" her siblings. That's when it starts. The glare of doom. The judgement. The "hey woman why the hell don't you control your kids?" look. Well, ma'am, if you would've just listened to me when I told you nothing had changed on the paperwork, I wouldn't have to be filling this out right now and could corral my children. I'm sorry that they're offending you, but I came fully prepared to keep them contained until I was asked to do this paperwork.

The behavior in the waiting room set the tone for the rest of my trip. We get called back to the patients rooms. All is well, until M is asked to get up on the table. Of course J wants up too, and now C can't resist climbing the step stool either. It's so big, and black, and shiny, and oooo I can hurt myself if I fall off it! Let's climb it! Makes perfect sense! So the nurse starts doing the Glare of Doom. GREAT! Twice in 10 minutes, not a new record, but close. I pick up C and try to use my calm mommy voice to get J down when the nurse does what I call "helicopter mommy wannabe" and tries to get him down too. Trust me lady, I'm a bit overwhelmed, but I can get my kiddo of the stool, promise.

And then the doctor comes in. I had just kept C from falling off the chair as she opens the door. Apparently while my back was turned J had climbed back on the stool and was now playing with the ear things (yes I am aware they have names it's just 11pm and I'm too tired to google it). So I get the Glare of Doom #3. I'm on a streak. We have to pin down M to put some eye drops in and as we turn around doc goes, "Baby took her diaper off, oh no!" Yea, thanks doc. Meanwhile J was back playing with the ear thing. Insert Glare of Doom #4.

The Glare of Doom is nothing new to me. I'm quite used to it actually. Normally it's given by new mothers or non-mothers. Occasionally the "hoity-toity" moms too. It's that glare you get when you can't control your kid, amongst other things. The "I'm silently judging you for all you do" glare. Well guess what receptionist, nurse, and doctor. I hope someone gives you that glare someday. Because it sucks. You go home feeling like you've failed as a mother and as a woman. But guess what! I didn't tonight because I know I survived going to the doctors alone with three children. And that's a darned good accomplishment.

Maybe next time you want to give the Glare of Doom you should reach out a helping hand or an apologetic smile instead. Life needs more of those. As for me,  I'll just keep my head held high and focus on the little achievements in life, because man they feel good.