Perspective

Landon and I are guilty. Regularly guilty, not just occassionally guilty. We are guilty of stating that we need to make more money. We'll say that we need to make more money so that we can renovate our (perfectly functioning) kitchen, redo our (very solid) floors, or (maybe even) move into a newer house even closer to the beach and the park. We'll say that we need to make more money so that we can upgrade our (already luxury) SUV. We'll say that we need to make more money to afford a(nother) bachelor party or girl's trip for the year. Or maybe we'll say that we need to make more money so that we can buy clothes off of the racks in the front of the store rather than the back. But the truth is, no one at the Messal house needs anything at all.


I read this morning that it only takes $34,000 per year (per person living in one household) to be considered among the world's wealthiest 1% (half of the world's wealthiest live in the US, and the world's middle class actually makes a median of $1,225 per year). I also read a blog this morning that (amongst other things) talked about moments of thanksgiving. One of the mother's moments was while in line at the grocery store, when she reminded herself that despite the chaos of her 3 kids and a slow clerk, she had a cartful of "delicacies" that mothers around the world would kill to have (fresh fruit & veggies, organic milk, yogurt, meat, and the occassional popsicle). Amen to that!

The moments when Cora doesn't have exactly what she needs are so brief... Tonight she started to shiver a little when on the changing table after her bath but before I got her hair dry and her (heavy winter feety) PJs on her. Yesterday we ran a late afternoon errand that cut into her dinner time and we had to make-do for a few minutes with some stale crackers and a granola bar. She was in a foul mood in her high chair tonight, and niether Landon or I could figure out what would satisfy her. Several days ago I thought that we were out of fresh fruit (due to grocery shopping laziness on my part!) and so I was going to give her some canned pineapple and raisins with breakfast rather than her typical fresh fruit cocktail (but I found some strawberries hidden in the fridge). I think that you catch my drift - Cora wants for very little, and actually needs nothing. In those moments, I empathize for a second with mothers who struggle to meet the needs of their children. It would be heartbreaking.  

Even though we are guilty of saying that we need more money, we are far more "guilty" of saying how lucky we are. We're lucky for a healthy and happy home, our marriage, faith, a delightful daughter, fulfilling work, and supportive families, and we say so frequently (maybe even daily).

In recognition that I have a little person copying my every move, I've made a list of words that I am removing from my vocabulary this year. I'm adding the word need to the list.  

Cora, wearing "Vintage Reese", changing from happy...

...to mad!

 I love her little grumpy face, but...

...maybe if I stop using the word need, she'll stop throwing these little tantrums!