Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Thank You for my First World Problems!

Here I am. Scouring the internet at bedtime from the recliner trying to figure out why nobody is addressing a vital and immediate issue.  What the duck am I supposed to tell my barely verbal 22 month old tomorrow? I suspect 'Mummy had pneumonia and is sick sick.' will lack something. Just me thinking that though. My husband (awesome as he is...and he IS awesome) has not yet mastered the trick of being in two places at once either and so will be going to work to keep the wolves at bay. 
This is what set me thinking. I was reading Rants From Mommyland's post on First World Problems. The feelings that this generated led me to make a promise to give Thirty Days Of Thanks. Because all my problems are First World Problems.  

How ever will I amuse my active and well-nourished toddler. Will we play with Electronic toys....Lie in bed and stream Netflix on high-speed internet? 

What snack will I fix him. From a well stocked pantry no less. I would hate to spend a day sick on memory foam, cotton and crumbs. 

I stood and felt sour when I payed my copay. My husband lost his Schmidt briefly when yet again our local pharmacy failed to have basic medications in stock. 

The distance to the CVS was three blocks. The wait a lengthy and laughable fifteen minutes. 

These are First World problems. I forget how blessed I am and lose my Schmidt regularly about this sort of thing. Only this morning I had forgotten my blessings and sulked and pitied myself all the way to the doctors office. 
This is the truth of it. I have Pneumonia. I am thankful. My well trained doctor was there to see me less than 12 hours after I called him. My husbands job grants me health insurance. My copay was $25 dollars. Which I had.  The doctor wrote prescriptions and nurses administered meds in the office. I left and went to a pharmacy. By lunch time I had the right medicine, at a reasonable cost. I'm resting and writing from my recliner and wondering how to please my child tomorrow while i rest in the comfort of a sturdy little townhouse, heat and a/c and a husband that leaves each day to make that possible. And still has a job in a down economy. 
Thankful. So thankful. And angry with myself. I let myself forget, somehow, that these things were blessings. I certainly haven't always had it easy. We've lost homes. Loved ones. Jobs and even had to give up the dream for a while. But not because we aren't blessed. Through all of those times as our household grew, shrank, shifted and changed, we stayed housed. Fed. Warm. 
When I was young my mother took it into her head to take me travelling with her. I saw all sorts of places, saw all sorts of things. I saw children. The reality of the Second and Third world should have been burned into me. The stories the old Auschwitz survivors told should have never slipped from the front of my mind. 
Because I am blessed. Because I am thankful. 

Hopefully I will remember that tomorrow when I work out what to do with my toddler while i hack and pant. My mummy lives to far to make me soup :( and my husband won't be home till 3. 

Thank you For My First World Problems..

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