Or lack there of

I talked to my friend for over an hour tonight. We don't get to talk to each other very often anymore, both too busy. Her with her career and new relationship, me with my lack of a career and total confusion over what to do with my life and Mommidom and old relationship. Sometimes I envy her a little because she has made it through undergrad and grad school working full time in half the time it has taken me to finish just my undergrad. She sort of throws off my whole I haven't graduated yet because I have always had to work full time excuse. And she has her dream job and lives by the ocean and sleeps in on the weekends and travels. But she is dating a lot and goes to parties to meet people and UGH I hate the beginning of relationships and UGH I hate parties so then I stop envying her for a while.

She listened as I went on about the same things that I always go on about-my job, my husband, my sick kid, social injustices, being fat, no time, no money, no sleep....I asked her if I was complaining about the same stuff and telling pretty much the same stories the last time we talked and she was kind and acted like that was a silly question. "No way" she said, "besides I never get sick of your stories."

She said she sometimes envy's me. When she looks at the Bean blog or when she spends her whole night at a party and goes home feeling tired and lonely. She said sleeping in on Saturday's isn't nearly as fun as rolling around in bed at the break of dawn with a snugly and sweet little boy that is as soft as a teddy bear and smells like heaven. Humph.

And so tonight, up too late and in the face of the enormous pile of unfolded laundry to my left and the stacks of unpacked boxes to my right and with the sound of a coughing and scarily high fevered little boy coming up over the monitor I am going to try to find a few things that I love.

-Like my new vegan cupcake cookbook that is chalked full of scrumptious treats for myself and likely many of Wade's coworkers.
-Like the fact that I can call my Mom and tell her about Henry's fever every 15 minutes, distractedly listen to her advice and then call again a few minutes later to ask her about it again.
-Like the fact that I have three different and totally amazing sisters that accept my every quirk and neurotic tendency.
-Like the look on my little sister's face when she talks about counting down the days until she moves out of our parents house and remembering that glorious feeling of freedom and nervousness.
-Like my super comfy exercise pants that I bought to wear to the gym but have ended up wearing to bed almost every night for the past month and my loving husband who I am certain remembers that said pants were purchased to be worn to the gym but never says a word about it.
-Like the fact that Tylenol can bring a fever down from 102- 99 and my panic level down from totally insane to mildly annoying in under 20 minutes.
-Like the cat sleeping in a tiny ball on the enormous pile of laundry to my left.
-Like the fact that I have an old friend that I may not talk to for months but that will call at just the right moment and give up her Saturday night party for me.