Silver Linings

I am a big believer in silver linings. Life is all about perspective on things, really. The water heater in our hotel room either went out or doesn’t function before 5am – either way this is fine because if there was ever a day where I needed a cold shower to wake up, it’d be today. I was too tired and sad last night to even contemplate leaving the room for dinner – this is also fine because it allowed me plenty of time to think and also saved money, so now I will feel less guilty about my $5 Starbucks at the airport. And although I only managed about an hour of sleep last night, this is again fine because I get three hours back into my day today when I land in Oregon so there will be extra rest tonight. 

See what I mean? Perspective. Silver linings. There’s always a bright side. 

Last night I was laying next to Pook and just watching her sleep. I was telling myself all the things I already know. I already know that who she is does not change regardless of any diagnosis or title. I already know that we’re not guaranteed any amount of time with our kids and that no matter when she’s taken from me, I will still feel like I didn’t get enough time with Pook… Even if she’s 80 at the time. And I already know that she is being guided and watched over by a better parental hand than I could ever be – the hand of her Heavenly Father. But last night, as I was trying desperately to calm my heart and to sleep, I finally found my perspective via a judo chop to the throat. 

Here’s the silver lining: Pook is never getting married and will live with me forever. I know this because no human being would willingly sleep in the same bed with this kid. Ever. She talks in her sleep, and not just a little. I lost count of the number of times she sat bolt upright and screamed, “Yeah!” at the top of her voice before collapsing back to sleep. She snores like my dad. And she literally barrel rolls across the bed, which is exactly how I came to encounter the previously mentioned judo chop. Pook woke me up at 3:30am by smacking me in the forehead with her empty bottle and shouting, “BA!” in my ear. She’s tough, she’s loud, she wants what she wants exactly when she wants it and she has zero filter in the daylight hours, but apparently this doesn’t change when she’s asleep. Setting aside the fact that I’ve given birth to a tiny version of my mother, this kid is impossible to sleep next to and so I am saved. At least one of my babies will stay my baby forever. 

Perspective. 

And now, Starbucks.