Lessons in Life:

Me and the kiddos had a date. Some people get all weirded out when I call it a date. But that’s what it was. A parent and children, out on the town, living it up.

McD’s style. Playland, yo!

Of course on this date, dinner was bought. Along with the ever popular, collectible Happy Meal toys. Can I just tell you how many of these things are lying around the house? Scattered under the couch. More likely than not, wedged in the couch cushions. Probably buried in the back of my car, plotting their revenge.

More than I can count, that’s how many.And I swear to you, SWEAR, that we don’t go to McD’s, that often.

Once a week isn’t often is it?

On this particular date (now I’m saying it just to annoy people) the toy of the evening was from the Strawberry Shortcake collection. This group of young ladies includes the most talked about 'super hero' in our house: Strawberry. She is coveted.

Now, we don’t actually own many Strawberry toys. 

Anyway, back to my story. As we walk up to the counter at McD’s, the toy display loomed, beckoning to the kiddos. They put it there on purpose, in the direct sight-line of kids. Just in case their parents were even considering ordering something other than a Happy Meal, this display seals it. With whines and cries and big, giant puppy-dog eyes, no parent can resits the call of a child who wants a Happy Meal. Scratch that, a child who can not live without a Happy Meal.

Smack dab in the middle of this display is Strawberry. Calling out to the kids. Breathing their names. Promising hours upon hours of adventures. If we would just order a Happy Meal.

Only Strawberry lied. The kiddo got Blueberry Muffin. Lame old Blueberry. Not nearly as cool as Strawberry.

For the rest of the evening, that was the theme. “I really wanted Strawberry, but they didn’t have her, and I got Blueberry instead, but I really wanted Strawberry, so we’ll have to go back and get her next time.” Now imagine this on repeat about a million times in a munchkin’s voice.

On repeat, without even a pause button. Ten minutes in, it finally dawned on me: teachable moment! Teachable moment! And these oh-so-wise words tumbled out of my mouth:

“Well kiddo, we don’t always get what we want. We just have to be happy with what we have.”

Brilliant, I know.

I was so proud of myself, taking the moment to teach, or begin to teach, such an important life lesson. Learning to be happy, love and appreciate what you have, instead of focusing on what you don’t have.

Then, as I was telling friends about my mom-of-the-year moment, someone slapped me in the face. With words. Not hands.

This great life lesson isn’t something that we necessarily follow.

Damn. Right.

How many times do I fall down the well of self pity because of something that we don’t have? We don’t have a giant house with rooms to spare. We can’t afford two mortgages so we’re stuck in our ever-shrinking house. We don’t have the latest and greatest technology (hello iPad2 envy). We can’t go out for dinner every week. We can’t buy the kiddo toys every time we’re at the store. 

I couldn’t…

We can’t…

We don’t…

The list gets longer the more I think about it. Too many have-nots. Too many disappointing Blueberry Muffin toys. Not enough Strawberry Shortcake Dolls.

This is by far one of my favorite moments in motherhood: When a lesson shared with my kids is actually a lesson for myself. And really, for everyone.

Be thankful for what you have. Focus on the love surrounding you.

And let all of the other things melt away.