You're Thankful I Matured, Maybe?

I'm not sure if it was my kids autism or my breast cancer, or the fact that I am just older and more mature and have gained more tolerance or learned to bite my tongue when I want to verbally bash someone.

You see, I love my kids more than life itself. They are challenging, and some days suck with autism. Suck to the point of tears. Sometimes, the fact that being a cancer survivor is ruined when I look at my body and see the mutilation that took place to keep me alive.

But then I remember all that is small stuff. I am so grateful that I have kids, that was all I ever wanted in my life anyway. I have to work a little harder and a little different than the moms of typical children. However, I respect all moms equally. Kids are wonderful gifts from God, but they have the tendency to be challenging and exhausting, some days more than others. With autism I have lost a lot of my patience with whining and attitude where it is not important.

So some days, I feel really amazingly blessed and overwhelmingly responsible for these special needs kids. When I get the opportunity for an hour out on my own without children or husband with me to drive me batty, the possibility of me getting annoyed at "small things" is a huge possibility. For example, tonight, I put my kids to bed for the night, and went and did my Thanksgiving shopping all alone! That was the pleasant part, browsing through the grocery store, not being rushed, or anyone with me having a meltdown or distracting me from the matter at hand. I know most moms of newborns, toddlers, and special needs kids, even that hour at the market alone could be a peaceful tranquility and break that is perfect. 

After the market I went to get myself a hot chocolate. It was a little chilly tonight and I wanted something sweet. So I was at a local major coffee house waiting in line, and excited to get my treat for myself (that I didn't have to share!) So there were several people in front of me, and baristas were doing their best to get every concoction out to each patron in a timely manner.

And then there was her. You know her—the perfectly-coiffed broad that irritates the crap out of most. Her drink wasn't hot enough. Was it non-fat like she ordered? It didn't have enough mocha, but don't put too much, I can't put on my own sleeve. So what I am thankful for is not telling these people how much I want to punch them in the face. 

Come on! It is a cup of coffee. In the big picture of life, you spent more time bitching about this beverage than I have about having tattooed-on nipples because breast cancer took them from me. My goodness, it took all I had to not trip you and your perfectly-put-together outfit and handbag as you walked out the door. 

Do you not realize how awesome your life is that you can even afford a $5 cup of joe? You spent 10 minutes complaining and torturing a 16-year-old barista over this cup of coffee. What on earth would you do if something really challenging or something that actually required you to be selfless happened to you? 

So today, I am thankful for being able to keep these thoughts to myself and let the superficial people live in bizarro world. I am thankful that I have gained the maturity to not embarrass the idiots of the world, when they clearly need it.