Gratitude Day 3 | Silver Linings and Hidden Gratitude

I didn’t quite expect my gratitude challenge to be, well, challenged quite so quickly.

Both my kiddos have flu. Both have high fevers, coughs, aches, nausea, and pretty much any other symptom possible. In the last 24 hours I’ve been to the pediatrician twice and the pharmacy five times and washed my hands at least a million and a half times.

It’s enough to make my aspirations of gratitude sour and turn cold. I mean, who has time to be grateful when the world is germ filled and feverish?

But, of course, now is the time when we need gratitude most. When I need gratitude most.

So I starting looking. I searched in the quiet moments. I looked between taking temperatures and worrying over ways to get the kiddo combo to take their medicine. And I looked between the moments of worry and restlessness. And I found beautiful moments of gratitude, moments of pure and gracious seconds.

(Please excuse the iPhone photos. I don’t want to have to Lysol my Nikon.)

I’m thankful they’re sick together. Not that I enjoy having to children under the weather, but I don’t have to run interference to keep them separated and we do all the sick routines: medication, movie watching, temperature taking, in tandum.

I’m thankful they’re not missing school since the holiday break doesn’t end until Monday. Yes Julia was sad to miss a birthday party. And yes Max wasn’t able to go to Monster Jam with his dad tonight. But they’ll be up and around in time to get back into their regular routines.

I’m thankful to live in a place where I can get Tamiflu and inhalers at a nearby pharmacy. Where sick means the flu and not something worse like Ebola. Where I have insurance that covers some of the cost of doctors and medication. These are basics to us and the very first things I take for granted. This was a good reminder.

My girl has an amazing sense of humor, despite how awful she feels. She spent all of yesterday snuggled into the recliner with her Elsa and Anna pillow, watching movies and wearing a yellow super hero mask. She takes all the yuck and makes it light and fun and smiles through it. I’m so grateful for that, for her and for me.

I haven’t snuggled close to this little boy since he was a baby. He’s burning with fever. He’s restless. And he’s got a tight grip on my arm and his head on my shoulder. I’m trying to focus on the being together and not so much on the sick between us. I’m thankful that he loves me, that he’s my boy, that I can comfort him, if only just a bit.

I’ve learned that sometimes the gratitude shows up in the sliver linings. Sometimes it’s not obvious or blatant and you have to dig to find those emotions. But when you do find it, the gratitude in the worst of all possible moments, then that moment isn’t so totally awful. It makes the bad a little better, the horrible a little sweeter. And that means the world is a nicer place.