I am thankful for all 3 of the hours that Molly slept last
night. I am thankful that we have health
insurance, and that her pediatrician was able to schedule an appointment for
her early in the day today, especially since it’s Friday, so we didn't have to
go through the weekend wondering if those hacks were because there was fluid in
her lungs, or that those head shakes were because her ears were infected. I am thankful that she was cheerful in the
morning, she could have been sour, like me, because 3 hours of sleep is really
not very much, especially when the rest of them are spent listening to your
baby cough and cry, or watching her tug at her little ears.
When we were packed up and ready to go to the doctors
office, I bundled Molly up and headed out to the car. Out the front door we go, down to front
steps, and out to the street. When we
get to the car, I am thankful we have another vehicle, because the window of
the back driver-side door has been smashed in and the entire car is filled with
the tiny pieces of glass I am used to seeing on the highway after fender
benders. I am thankful there was no cash
in my wallet because it is missing. We
go back inside, where I call the doctors office, and then thank them, when they
agree to move our appointment to later in the afternoon. Thankfully my husband works nearby, he comes
home and gives me his vehicle, which I am thankful has an extra car seat in it,
because the one in the other car is covered in bits of glass. My husband is thankful we have a third car,
an old truck, parked around the side of the house, and is pleased that the fact
that its headlights don’t work will mean that he will get to depart early from
work later that day. He gives me tips as
I thank the call center employees who cancel my credit cards. I even call the library. I don’t want the thief checking out books on
my account.
Thankfully it is not raining at the moment, or the car would have filled
with water, and developed a musty interior, which can be hard to get rid of. But on the horizon
the fall day is darkening, heavy clouds are moving swiftly towards us across
the bay. Thankfully, the enormous rock
the thief used to smash open our car window is still inside, so I use it to
secure a tarp (and by tarp I mean my yoga mat) over the broken window.
On the way to our later doctor’s appointment, I am not feeling
thankful. I am feeling sorry for myself.
Three hours sleep, a sick baby, a broken window to replace, a car seat
full of glass. On the radio, NPR is
running a story on women in Syria
who are trying to escape the ravaged country with their children. I am thankful again.
The doctor says there is no fluid in Molly’s lungs, or
infections in her ears. I am sort of
thankful that she smiles at him and laughs through her appointment, but sort of
irritated, like when you take your car into the mechanic and the knocking noise
it has been making suddenly goes quiet.
I want her to cough and pull her ears, but she doesn't. She smiles and spits bubbles at the
doctor. He sends us on our way.
We stop by my mother’s house on the way home. She has offered to watch Molly so I can have
a nap. I sleep for another 3 hours. I am thankful that, while the last 3 hours
felt like ten minutes, this 3 hours feels like 7. I pack up Molly and we go home, where Ryan
is, having left early with the no-headlights truck. He makes dinner. Our neighbor calls, he has found my wallet in
his driveway. “There is no cash in it,”
he regretfully explains, but I am pleased, thankful to avoid a trip to the DMV
to have my license replaced. “Don’t
worry,” I tell him, “thankfully there wasn't any in there to begin with.”
Back down the steps and down to the street where the
neighbor gives me back my wallet.
“This must have been a real pain,” he says, which is true,
but still, I’m thankful, because a little pain every so often is not such a big
deal. Plus it helps remind me how much
we have to be thankful for.
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