The Practice of Gratitude: Part 1
We purchased a house needing tons of work during my fourth pregnancy. As moving day approached, the doctor placed me on partial bed rest. It was a stressful time: moving preparations, finishing our home school year, caring for my boys and the little one inside me. Life found me tired, overwhelmed, and huge. Not the epitome of a grateful human.
Cheating on the doctor’s orders one morning, the boys and I snuck to Trader Joe’s. My blood pressure began to boil as we shopped. My brood behaved badly. Instead of helping me as planned, they argued. Then, when not arguing, two of them made gun and burp sounds while the one in the cart barked like a dog at full decibel.
I walked away from our cart o’ fun to a small corner of the small store. As a mental breakdown took place in my head, I wondered: Why did I ever have kids? Why were my kids the naughtiest children ever? Was I CRAZY in having another one? Why hadn’t God just given me one little girl as my plan had been? How was I going to handle an eternity of listening to burp and gun sounds?
Once I semi-got a grip, I turned around and there standing next to my cart talking to the boys was my friend. My infertile friend.
Poor thing, I unloaded on her. As I spoke, her eyes clouded, while she listened sweetly. She then replied, “Kris, I know you are hormonal and tired. The boys are challenging. But think about this: I wish I had your life. I just want one child and you have four.”
So, I got down on my swollen knees and begged her to trade lives with me!Continue Reading