Early this morning, when I couldn't sleep, I was sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Mulling over all the missed opportunities and the wasted time. Moping about the things I hadn't done with my life. I was doing a pretty good job of sitting on my couch throwing my own little pity party.
And then my son fussed in his sleep and called for me.
I walked into his room, my mind still turning over all the things I had to be sad and upset about and then I saw him. The moon was shining through his window and his little eyes were still closed. He rolled over and curled around his blanket and my mind stopped stewing about all the things I haven't done.
Pity party over.