name them one by one

Today,
started off frustrating.

Chloe was late to preschool because well, I’m sort of {in love} with sleeping in. Let’s get real-we’re [always] a healthy few minutes behind, but today we were rushing. Granny {bless her soul} fetched shoes, ponied up hair, and had patience for the both of us…while I grumbled under my breath & remedied an amazing diaper explosion on the babe. We skipped breakfast. We couldn’t find Chloe's shoes. Were there any warm clothes clean? Who knows! Crap! It’s show & tell today! Needless to say: we ran out the door at 9:12.

PS: Preschool starts at nine.

Then, domino effect style, I was going to be late to my 10am visiting teaching appointment. Because [of course] I was still barefoot, in Myron’s athletic shorts, crazy/greasy bed-head, & looking like a legit crazy person. I needed to bathe. So I jumped in the shower hoping that soap/hot water would lift my spirits. Smelling like shampoo & midnight pomegranate always helps, right?

En route to VT, I received a worky-related phone call that stressed me out completely. Like, straw that broke it all style. It wasn’t the end of the world…but it might as well have been because I was acting very, well…drama queen-esque.

And then, on the corner of Pueblo & Lindsay, began inner-Angie-torture-session number 566774503598. Why can’t I do it? Why can’t I have it all together? Seriously, getting your kid to preschool on time ISN’T rocket science, Angie! Why can’t you do this…Why is it like this? You can’t do anything right, girl. You try so hard, why doesn’t it LOOK like you are? Etc.

The stress ulcer forming in my stomach lining aside, visiting teaching was fun. I chatted with cute girls, held babies & gleaned from their strength.

{Deep breath.}

But still: on the cranky-scale 1-10, I was still a good five. I said a long prayer & busted out a pepsi. [A magic combo, btw.]

The spirit quietly whispered, “count your blessings- name them one by one. “

So I did.

And my Myron is always number one.

I thought about him in his little rental car driving to pick up his dad in Vegas post heart surgery today. I thought about how he ordered a convertible just ‘cause he thought it’d be fun.

I thought about him giving Chloe horsey rides & then stopping and asking for a sugar cube.

I thought about him & Livy napping in the bed next to each other & looking like little twinners.

I thought about him wearing a {self-titled} “monkey suit” to a job he isn't a huge fan of...every stinking day-because he loves us THAT much.

I thought about him encouraging me during rough times.

I thought about him praising me during good times.

I thought about the promises to each other that we share. And that was enough.

I only needed to count to one.

***

In our church, we believe that families can be together forever. That through the divine blessings of the temple fathers will be sealed to their children, and children to their fathers. I am deeply grateful for this knowledge. It is my strength. It is my perspective through every discouraging moment that I feel on this earth.

Times are tough, dude. I am really affected by all the turmoil & sadness in the world right now. The economy has hurt me & others I know profoundly. It just seems like, freak….life shouldn’t be so hard! That…coupled with my major tendency to be very sarcastic & hormonal = bad mood.

But I am quickly comforted & lifted by my blessing number one. AKA Myron. I am humbled by the opportunity I have to rally around that boy all the days of my life & throughout all eternity, yo. I’ll probably never understand his love for UFC. And he’ll probably never understand my need to organize things inside of neatly labeled boxes. We are very different and just what each other needs all at the same time. We’re here together. Both of us have hardcore weaknesses but we’re learnin’ together.

And that...

gets me through.