Murphy’s Law says “Anything that can go wrong, will.”
My question is, who the heck allowed this fool to start making laws?
Things are going to pot around here and I’m not kidding. Lately I’ve been handed one problem after another and I can’t keep up with them all. Stuff is falling apart and I’m getting annoyed. I don’t have the time or patience to deal with any of it. At all.
How come, when things are finally sailing along smoothly, the other shoe drops? Suddenly Murphy is standing on our doorstep with 6 bags’O’luggage and has decided to take up permanent residence. That inconsiderate bum.
He reminds me of fruit flies.
Those unwelcome pests show up just as things start to get sweet. They bring all their mamas, their brothers, their sisters and all their broke cousins, along with every single other fruit fly on the planet named Henry. The same holds true for Murphy and all his problems.
Ugly old Murph’ has declared an outright war on us and I’m trying not to get ticked. Things are breaking down left and right. It seems to be something else every day; appliances, furniture, toys, electronics….it goes on and on. Somewhere along the line I stopped making a list of all the broken items. Now I make a list of everything that’s still working. This list is a lot easier because it’s shorter.
Duct-tape graces our home in abundant silver stripes. It’s so plentiful that I’ve created a whole new trendy look. I’m calling it Dumpster Chic. It may catch on, just give it time.
As if all my stuff breaking down isn’t awesome enough, I’m also balding in front.
You read that right. The hormone adjustments from being newly postpartum has me literally, (the word “literally” applied here refers to something that is actually, factually happening), losing fistfuls of hair daily. It falls out everywhere. I’m like a Bernese Mountain Dog molting in the spring. My hair is everywhere, except on my head where it belongs. Words can’t explain how thoroughly craptastic it is to brush my hair and then find large quantities of it on the floor instead of on my head. Will it grow back? I’m sure it will. It will grow back grey, no doubt.
Yet even with my duct-taped belongings, my balding head, unusable dishwasher, dead microwave and crummy computers, I realize that I still have an abundance of reasons to be thankful. My issues are minor. They are inconveniences, really. Murphy may be an intruder for a season, but in the grand scheme of my life, there are countless reasons to offer my thanks to God.
My children are alive and healthy. Clean, drinkable water comes into my house through my faucets, which is more than most of the world can boast. The roof doesn’t leak. I have hot water, which is perfect for hand-washing all the dishes. Our drains work and waste is going out to the sewer and not backing up into our house. (Don’t ask.) We live in a safe neighborhood. Mr. Diaz has a good, secure job and he comes home each night after work because he still likes us. And I’m blessed that he still likes me too. His bald wife.
We have plenty of clothing and shoes to wear and plenty of books to read. Yes, they are duct-taped, but that’s just part of my new motif. We have healthy food to eat each day. Our vehicles need repairs, but at least we own them outright. And although we may not have a stitch of extra spending money at the moment, we are still debt-free.
What I am saying is that I have made a choice. I’ve chosen contentment and gratitude. Admittedly, sometimes it’s a choice I make repeatedly throughout the day, (usually right about the time I flip on a switch and hear a loud POP!).
So many people are broken and hurting right now. Watching terrible situations unfold all around me has reminded me of what my real blessings are, and it’s not stuff. It can never be stuff. It’s people. Fantastic, beautiful, irreplaceable people who make us laugh and make us cry; people who are “in it” with us for the long-haul of life’s load.
People are the real blessings in life.
Even the small ones who are quick to say, “Mom, what’s up with your head? Is that a bald spot?”
Yeah it is. Thanks for pointing that out.
Now hurry up. Go get the duct-taped vacuum and suck up all the hair.
Mama needs to go buy a hat.