As I was walking into my son's middle school on Tuesday, about to partake of the dreaded "curriculum night"---forced to endure boring lectures by school administrators, bumble around trying to find Room 205, and experience unwanted algebra flashbacks---I got hit with a thought. (That happens to me sometimes). I didn't feel sorry for myself. I didn't mind that I had 2 and 1/2 hours of boredom ahead of me. What I thought was....
This is all good. I'm alive. It's the "Bonus Round."
And I realized, as I walked behind a mom with low-rider jeans meant for a 13 year old girl, that this is the new way I view my life.
Everything after my heart attack is The Bonus Round. I could have died, but I didn't. So even boring, mundane, irritating, exasperating, horrifying, difficult, emotional, and painful experiences are all good. Because I'm still here. I can't get too worked up about the bus always being late, glitter all over the house, and the dog peeing on my pillow. Because my daughter has fun on the bus, my house sparkles like a Britney Spear's costume, and I can switch pillows with my hubby and he'll never know. Stuff that used to bum me out is now viewed with more humor and good grace.
I'm not sure if that means I'm older and wiser. Definitely older. But I still listen to High School Musical, so maybe not wiser or necessarily more mature. But I like this new attitude. The Bonus Round is good. It makes you appreciate stuff you used to take for granted. It makes you less likely to complain. It makes you laugh when you realize your husband has glitter on his ass just as he is about to go to work.
The Bonus Round is all good. I'll take it.