I hope we don't ever pretend to have a perfect life. We certainly don't. Take this morning for example...
It started perfectly. We got up early. Husband went for his run. Hyrum slept in so we were able to eat breakfast without little fingers dipping themselves in syrup. We got ready for the day in peace. Brother Moon, the seminary pre-service trainer came by for a home visit. It went really well. We love Brother Moon. It was fun to sit and chat with him about how life is going and where we see the future taking us. PERFECT morning.
After Brother Moon left, Hyrum and I took Husband over to the seminary so that we could have the car for running errands. Hyrum, according to plan, fell asleep and that's when things started to go wrong. We went to the WIC office to get a breast pump. It's a necessary item with school starting this week. Unfortunately, they were out. They expect a new shipment any day, but really? Couldn't I have called to check before driving all the way over there?? Oh well...
THEN..."Oh! What a cute baby! How old is he? Here, let me wake him up for you by squeezing his foot." Yes. Thank you. That's exactly what I wanted you to do. I make my way out to the car and start driving toward ASU. I need to find the building where I buy my UPass. This is when Hyrum realizes, "Wait a second...I'm in my car seat. I don't like my car seat." (This is a new development. An unfortunate one.) So, he's wailing as I drive all around and in circles trying to remember where the parking and transit office is...
We finally get there and find a parking meter around the corner because all the ones right in front are taken, of course. I get the sun shade up, pull Hyrum, who immediately ceases his punkishness, out of his car seat, scrounge for some quarters and realize that the meter is broken. Lovely. I put Hyrum back in his car seat (he wails), get back in the car, pull the sun shade down, and look for another parking spot.
We walk around the corner, in the blazing 100+ heat, to discover that the line for parking and transit is out the door. Cursing ASU and everyone else who waited until now to get their stupid, overpriced parking passes, I get in line, just in time to realize that I have a bona fide poop explosion on my hands. It is exploding out the front AND back! What a lovely adventure to have when the only bathroom anywhere close reeks of harsh cleaning chemicals, is hotter than Hades, and doesn't sport a diaper changing station...
P.S. WIC just called. The pumps are in.
So, we finally make it back in line. I have sweat running down my back. My hair is sticking
to my neck. Then, I realize... I forgot to put deodorant on. Great. The appetizing aroma of body odor and baby poop. We wait and
wait and
wait in line, just so I can sell my soul to the to the Sun Devils.
We finally finish, find our way to the car. Hyrum
loves hates being put back in the car seat. The cherry on top could have been a parking ticket for exceeding the time on the parking meter, but I don't like cherries and Heavenly Father knew I could only handle so much this morning...
So...perfect life? Hardly. Ability to laugh about it? Intact, but only after getting home, bathing my little boy, feeding him, putting him down for a nap, and showering myself. That's when I realized it was funny and therefore, worth blogging about.
Life isn't perfect, but it is good. You can let it make you bitter or better. I choose to be better.