The small stuff

One trait I have inherited from my father is that I cannot leave things alone if they are broken/lost.

I will fuss and fuss until I fix the problem.

Birthday parties, church, appointments have been missed...all because I cannot find a specific shirt.

A few months ago, my computer printer would not print, so we stayed home instead of going out to eat with friends as planned.

It gets in my crawl space and I cannot let it go.

Real rational, huh?

Somehow, from the hospital to home yesterday, I lost my wallet.

Normally I would be frantic, non-functional even, without knowing where it is.

Being on the cusp of life and death for so many weeks, I have come to realize in the grand scheme of things what matters and what doesn't.

This doesn't.

Don't get me wrong, I wish I knew where it was. Our fridge is bare and I couldn't buy lunch today at the hospital without it. Unless some good Samaritan returns it, the Secretary of State office is not something I look forward to or currently have time for.

*If you are a police officer, disregard the previous sentences about my driving without a license handy.

I am realizing that I stress far too often about the small stuff. I get so wrapped up in things that don't actually matter.




In other news: the hospital has a special play time for siblings, so we are taking Bryce and Kayden tonight. I took a peek, and there are trains tables, basketball hoops, costumes, and fuse ball tables. I think they are really going to enjoy doing something special with mom and dad.

Daddy took a turn last night alone with Tessa, and it was nice to put the boys to bed. As I tucked him in, Kayden said "You're the best mommy ever".

Guy, I missed that.