As I turn on the ignition – with two giggling, hurried kids in the backseat strapping themselves into car seats (I swear they were babies like a split second ago, and it feels like we were dreaming of them to even exist a second before then, and I know it was only a minute before then that we were in our 20s living it up in NYC with these little people as amazing visions of a tomorrow on a far away horizon) – I pray that I have all the bags, mini waffles that I know no one will eat and miscellaneous items that the three of us need for the day because we are not turning around to go back home once this rocket ship of a minivan takes off for another Monday morning.
Everything is hectic. Everyone is rushed. But happy. A Michael Jackson mashup is blaring through Pandora for MJ’s littlest biggest fans to dance in their seats.
We’re so hurried. So on the go. And I never grabbed anything to eat on the way. So running on empty.
But I’m already full. I may not have eaten breakfast, but I feel full.
Because in the midst of this manic Monday morning, I look down at my dash and see that my amazing husband must have filled up my gas tank at some point yesterday. He never told me he was going to and never told me after he did it. He just saw my car would need gas in a couple days and thought to take care of it so I wouldn’t have to during the week. Or so I wouldn’t have to at all.
I make him crazy with my unsolicited criticisms and comments and opinions. And, yet. And yet he goes and does stuff like this. I do realize how fortunate I am to have such a partner. I hope he and all of my loved ones feel the gratitude I have for them when I too offer similar TLC.
We are not wealthy but, indeed, our life is rich. Our life is not easy but, indeed, our challenges are nothing compared to what real heroes face and battle. My life is full. Â My cup runneth over. I count my blessings, and I feel blessed.Â
And now I’m also hungry. Thank goodness for cold frozen mini waffles.
