Sometime between 1:00 and 2:00am the other night, I was lying on the couch with my sick fifteen month old daughter on my chest.  Neither of us was asleep.  She was struggling to get comfortable, while breathing through her mouth and draining her nose onto my shirt.  And I was thinking, “this could be worse.”    At least my daughter’s twin brother was deeply asleep, not suffering from her virus.   As a single mother, I would have had to call for reinforcements if both of my kids were up sick in the middle of the night.

I then began to think of other “it could be worse” things in my life. While I would like to make more money at this point in my life, at least I have a job and it is secure.  While I do not have any blood relatives in town, I do have the most numerous and loyal band of friends a person could ask for.  It would be nice to have a more spacious car, but at least my car is paid off and reliable.  I would ideally like to weigh ten pounds less, although I am healthy and fairly fit.  Boy, am I going to be tired and not very productive at work later today, but I am not a heart surgeon and other than my kids, nobody else’s life depends on me.

I really am very fortunate.  Of course I have my share of tsuris (troubles) and issues, but who doesn’t.   And some days, it is easy to slide down that path of woes and wallow.  Most days, that attitude does not serve one well.  I am not quite sure why I chose to look at my glass half full the other night.  Perhaps I was secretly enjoying the closeness of my daughter and her tiny fingers moving in my hair.  Truthfully, my glass runeth over.