Like anyone else, I know people who are having struggles with their health. I know people in the midst of horrible custody battles. I know people who are in financial trouble. And there's always a sob story in the news about someone who has it worse than anyone I know in person.
People open up to each other, people lend a sympathetic ear to each other, and we tend to say "it would be worse if..." I think that's human nature. It's supposed to make someone feel better, and it often does. I've spent a little extra time in doctor's offices and hospitals with my daughter because she was born with a relatively minor birth defect. In the grand scheme of life, it's been a really little, little, tiny extra time. Parents in pediatric OR waiting rooms are some of the chattiest people I've ever met. I guess it's a way of coping. Some of them talk about why they're there while hoping that the next time the door swings open, it will be their child's surgeon or nurse with an update. In my case, the other parents in the waiting room helped me put things in perspective. The cinnamon roll from the cafe downstairs sure didn't. It was one of the worst cinnamon rolls I've ever had. (Not a metaphor, btw. Too much frosting.) I knew that in all likelihood, my husband and I would be going home with a drugged, uncomfortable, but overall healthy baby in a couple days. (Spoiler alert for what could be a future post: the first 24ish hours post-surgery were rocky, then our daughter turned a corner and amazed us with her adaptability and remarkable recovery.)
There's a phrase I've been trying to get myself to stop saying to friends and family members in certain situations over the past several years. "At least you don't..." It's a hard habit to break, and I still say it quite a bit. But it doesn't always help. Lame example with no bearing on real life... Let's pretend I have a friend whose current worst struggle is having a hard time getting her teenager to unload the dishwasher. I could say, "At least you have a dishwasher." No kidding. Dishwashers are amazing. But it would prob be more sympathetic to say, "yup, that sucks. Get that kid to unload that dishwasher. Here's a tissue to dry your tears when you have a meltdown of your own because the dishwasher still isn't loaded tomorrow. Do you want a dog biscuit? I can give you that, too. After the kid loads the dishwasher, reward him with a dog biscuit. Sage advice."
Bringing myself back to "your worst." Regarding whoever is opening up to me at any particular time about the worst thing they have going on, I try to remember that's it's their worst. When we were in the hospital for my daughter's surgery, and I saw a friend mention online that his child had the flu and his wife was out of town, I thought to myself, "Huh. You know what really sucks? My child just had a hard time coming out of anesthesia, spit liquid narcotics on me, and has no way to tell me where it hurts and how badly it hurts. The surgeon told me that my baby has 'too many stitches to count' in her mouth. Oh, and I've been awake for about 36 hours now. My husband is holding her while I change out of my narcotic stained shirt and waste a little time on Facebook." Nah. I scrolled past. I didn't bother thinking of the friend who was going through something even worse than the whole baby surgery thing. Just scrolled, because now and then, I'm mature like that. My friend's current worst day was pretty bad to him at that moment of venting online. He had a sick kid, another one to get to school, and no adult at home to help with the morning routine while he tried to get things in order, call in sick to work, etc.
I'm smart enough to know that right now, your worst possible nightmare would be me ending this post without a picture. So here's the flip flop pic I mentioned yesterday. They're sweaty. I'd sprinkle glitter on them for you, but then I'd have to clean it up, and glitter is a pain to clean up.
Want a question to talk about in the comments? Hmmmm. Either talk about your worst, or don't. Tell me about glitter. Tell me about sweat. I don't care. Or read and don't comment. Shocking news: you not commenting isn't really my worst nightmare right now. :-)
Very sage advice. Being a lucky one for whom the teenager thing is often my 'worst', I count my blessings regularly.
ReplyDeleteBut does your teenager load the dishwasher? That was really the whole point of this post. ;-)
DeleteOne of my worst moments was when I went on a hike and postholed and I asked my hiking buddy to hold my bag of Cheetos...and when I finally got out of the hole - discovered she ate them all and was apathetic about it (no remorse). I still have issues about this incident - particularly in regards to trusting others and also unfulfilled gratification. This incident has impacted the way I view my life.
ReplyDelete..."the way I view my life" - that's the whole problem. Stop viewing your life and just eat Cheetos instead. You could have avoided the whole thing by just eating the Cheetos sooner... ;-)
DeleteAfter my first half marathon I got my food at the end - I took two muffins because my mom was watching my kids in the hotel. I got to the hotel and gave her her muffin, she said no thanks, and left it in the room. We got outside to the bus to take the kids to Epcot and she asked me for some of my muffin. I told her I got her her own muffin. She said she didn't want a whole muffin, just a little bit. I said, "WELL I WANT MY WHOLE MUFFIN". I still have nightmares about this.
ReplyDeleteYikes, I bet your mom does too. Messing with someone else's muffins? She should know better. ;-)
ReplyDelete