Always Stuck In an Airport


 I’m sitting in the airport with Emma, delayed, again. I’m pretty sure American Airlines never manages a round trip without delays, at least in my experience. It’s been part of the game of traveling with Emma, often on my own, which I do a lot. Thankfully I’ve learned from my mistakes and have plenty of extra baby supplies on hand. And thankfully she’s a trooper who is able to nap anywhere. But seeing as today, in this airport, is also my 34th birthday, I figured some reflection was in order. 

When my flights get delayed, I inevitably utter a few curse words (cue the early 2000s classic, “I’m not a perfect persoooon”). On the way home from England it was supposed to be straightforward, but instead became a 13 hour plane ride, a stay in a roach motel, and a flight the following afternoon. Today it’s me and Emma desperately wanting to get home to spend time with Jeff, who prepared imitation Chipotle for this farm girl with city tastes on her birthday. It’s so easy to get annoyed when what I want isn’t what is happening. My natural inclination is to be mad and frustrated, naturally. 

And let be clear that what I’m about to share isn’t cancer perspective. Someone once said to me, “Gosh, after cancer I bet you never sweat the small stuff anymore!” I wanted to scream, “Are you kidding!? I sweat ALLLL the small stuff!” Instead I just smiled and nodded. This is more, 34 years old with a great, albeit imperfect, life perspective  

With 34 years of perspective, I’ve realized that complaining about what goes wrong diminishes the joy of what went well. I just spent five incredible days with my parents, aunt/uncle/cousin, and had dinner with friends I haven’t seen in almost four years. My parents got to enjoy Emma, who they haven’t seen since November. I got an incredibly fun haircut and my parents treated me all sorts of nice things. Heck, my last delay was coming home from TWO WEEKS IN ENGLAND with a perfect husband and baby. Who can complain about that?? The fact of the matter is that life isn’t perfect, it never will be, and if we only focus on the imperfections then we miss out on the joy of the perfect moments. 

So, at this moment I’m stuck in an airport, on my birthday, with a baby and a teapot (I only carry-on weird unhelpful things). I haven’t seen my husband in a week and I’m tired. But I’m not mad. In fact, I’m happy. I’m happy to be alive, to get to travel so much, to have such an easy-going baby, and to be sporting a sassy haircut. I’m happy that I have family that loves me, friends that last despite time and distance, and a safe home to go back to. I’m happy that Emma has been sound asleep for the last hour so I could drink my coffee in peace.

Negative emotions have their place. Sometimes, being mad is warranted. But I think I’m finally getting to the stage where I really don’t sweat the small stuff. After all, the big stuff in my life is all pretty darn great. 





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