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Could Be Worse

When you are a middle school mom, it’s time to lower your standards. Like seriously low. The new theme of my life is one that came to me as I was exiting a porta-potty at a tailgate at UD over the weekend. Don’t get me wrong, the porta-potty was gross in comparison to regular restroom standards. But in comparison to other porta-potties I’ve visited in my life, it wasn’t bad. It could be worse. This is now how I approach nearly everything in life, and I’ve found that it is giving me the exact level of expectation that is appropriate for being 46 and having three middle schoolers.

Got on the scale at a physical this week and the nurse looked at my for my reaction to the number. Me: what was it last time. Her: 4 pounds less. Me: Meh. Could be worse. Ditto for when I look in the mirror and I see age spots, gray hair, and the effects of gravity. Could be worse.

Peeked at my kids’ grades on the online portal (which is another whole blog because this is something my own parents never not ever did and honestly I’m not sure having this level of access is doing anyone any favors). Could be worse.

Laundry pile on the floor waiting for my attention? Kids didn’t really like the dinner I prepared? A to-do list a mile long and no motivation whatsoever? COULD BE WORSE.

It could always be worse. And sometimes that’s the best it gets.

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