Children can be unknowingly insightful, especially when they are trying their best to be sassy.
Case in point: Carlie was attempting to work herself into a frenzy over something inconsequential the other day. I can't remember what it is. Oh, wait. Yes, I can. It was 22 degrees outside and she was going to school barelegged in a skort (school uniform) with no-show socks. No tights. No knee socks. And a sweatshirt. No coat.
We went back and forth in the universal and age-old struggle of mother vs. daughter until father (Tim) intervened with an oh so paternal and therapist-y "Let her freeze! Let's go!"
Having won that round, Carlie then decided that the taste of Sucrets, which she begged for the night before for her sore throat and which I had braved the arctic blast to procure for her, was a foul and heinous attempt on my part to poison her. And also that I had (a) bought the *wrong ones* (b) bought the gross ones, not the good ones and (c) done it all on purpose. She wanted to spit it out. I demanded she continue to suck. She wanted to spit it out. I demanded she continue to suck. You can see that this is going really well and also? That I am an excellent parent in the early morning hours before school.
In my best patient mommy voice, I said, "Welcome to adulthood. Medicine is nasty. It's not candy. Get used to it. This is what it's like being a grownup. Everything is not coated in sugar and it sucks." Because I am full of the wisdom like that.
And her response was, "At least when you're a grownup you get to make your own choices."
Which left me kind of stumped. Because I'm a grownup. And I guess, *technically*, I get to make my own choices, yet I am quite unhappy with my lot in life right now. What good are choices? I *choose* to sell my house and move, yet no one buys it. I *choose* to pretend it's not Christmas, yet society barrels onward and I'm swept up in the mayhem. So choices schmoices.
But I guess it is up to me to turn that technicality into a reality and choose to make the best of the entire fucked up situation. Which is what I am choosing to do. Right now. At 5 a.m., in the midst of another round of the insomnia game. I've been all about the negativity lately -- the perfect storm of holiday blues, unsold house and crappy work issues. But today, at 5 a.m., I am choosing to embrace the good stuff. At least for one day.
My children are healthy. My marriage is happy. Tim and I are both gainfully employed. We have a warm roof over our heads and food in the pantry.