When life gives you lemons ...

Sometimes life just plain sucks. I hate the word "sucks", but sometimes there aren't any other appropriate words to describe it. I've never been too much of a complainer, and I'm generally a pretty happy person. However, yesterday I had an "aha" moment while reading a book call Just Moms: Conveying Justice in an Unjust World. My "aha" moment was when I realized that I have been doing nothing but complaining for about the last 3 months. Now, I think I have very good reasons to complain (as I will try to prove to you later), but what I read made me stop and think: What kind of attitude do I want my kids to have? Do I want them to see an example of a complainer who can always find the bad in every situation, or do I want them to see an example of someone who is content and thankful, even when things aren't perfect?

You see, I am getting tired of living in a 3rd floor apartment with no elevator and hauling 2 kids up and down those flights of stairs all by myself. I hate it. I curse every time I do it (under my breath, of course, at least when I'm actually carrying the kids). When I want to go running or walking, I have to stick Malachi in his crib (with him usually wailing about it, and then climbing out of it) and Isaiah in the excersaucer (also wailing, but not climbing out yet) while I lug my huge double stroller down the 3 flights of stairs, set it up, and then come back up to get the boys and lug them down. At least Malachi can walk down the stairs now holding my hand, though that sometimes makes it worse, as he is easily distracted and by the end I'm literally dragging him behind me. I then have to repeat this scene at the end of the run or walk to get back upstairs. I hate it. For awhile, I just stopped running with the kids, because I got tired of trying to create new swear words that would properly express my frustration. But I realized yesterday, I have a whole lot to be grateful for, even living in this 3rd floor apartment: I have 3 bedrooms, a washer and dryer in my apartment, I'm surrounded by trees, I can see Mt. Rainier out my front door (an advantage of living on the 3rd floor above the trees), and I have 2 working legs and bulky biceps to get me and the boys up and down these stairs. There are a lot of people a whole lot worse off than I am.

My second reason to complain is that we only have 1 car in Washington. We left the other car with my parents back in the midwest, so that I could use it when I stayed with them while Aaron was deployed. Our reasoning at the time was that most of the time we were in WA, Aaron was going to be deployed, so me not having a car for a few weeks wouldn't be a big deal. And it wasn't, until we got 2 kids and I can't get out of the house for days on end. There is nothing that makes a 3-bedroom apartment feel smaller than knowing you can't leave it. I want a car. I want to be able to go visit friends, drive to the park, get milk when I run out of it, etc. So I seethe and gripe and complain again that we only have 1 car. And then I realized, hey, there are a lot of people who don't even have a car, who have to take buses or walk. I have a husband who goes and gets groceries for me so I don't have to take the boys out with me to do it. I live a quarter mile from Walgreens, so I really can walk there in emergencies. And I do actually own a second car that, in less than a month, will be parked inside my 2-car garage. Why am I complaining again?

Then there's the whole "my husband is on duty and won't be home for 48 hours and had to leave for days, weeks, and months on end" complaint. Yes, being a Navy wife has sucked (for lack of a better term) many times. But you know, there are a whole lot of single moms out there who never have the anticipation of having help in the evenings or a break on the weekends. At least I knew that Aaron was coming back and the time as a single mom was temporary. There are a whole lot of moms out there who never have that to look forward to. I have an amazing husband who loves Jesus, loves me, and loves our boys. Why am I complaining again?

And then there's the whole "I'm not pregnant and all my friends are/were/will be in the next 2 weeks" complaint. While I've never been super excited about the idea of gaining 30 pounds and popping a head the size of a small cantaloupe out of my body, there are times that I'm jealous of all those cute pregnant ladies walking around who can eat as much as they want and not feel guilty about it. But hey -- I have 2 great boys who are cuter and funnier than anything that could come from my genes, I never had to buy maternity clothes (though I'm secretly thinking of getting a pair of pants with the belly cover -- genius), and my ankles and fingers aren't swollen. And heck, I eat whatever I want anyway! I have a lot to be grateful for.

The list of complaints could go on and on, but the more I've thought about it, so could the list of things I can be grateful for. My life isn't perfect, but whose life is? I want my kids to learn to be content no matter what the circumstances, and if that's my dream for them, I'd better start modeling it for myself. Nobody likes a complainer, right?