A Work in Progress

Last night, my son had a track meet in a city about an hour from home. With my younger son's schedule, and the fact that it was a school night, I decided not to go to the meet (which kills me) and pick up older son when the bus returned to school. My husband was at work (he works 48-72 hours at a time) so I was the one doing all the picking up. At 9:45 when older son texts me he's near the school -- when I'm sort of grumbling to myself about how late it is -- I get in the car and head over to get him. This is when the self-pity can worm its way in. Easy to do when driving, looking like this. ← I mean, you're focused on driving, kind of. But thinking about everything else. (Admit it, we all do this). Why do I have to do this? Why can't my husband be home? Why this and why that? I stopped myself. Nope. Not gonna do that. Feeling sorry for myself was getting old, like, annoyingly old. No. I would think about other things. I would thi