Count Your blessings...

Count your blessings, Name them one by one…

Blessing number one…
My beloved husband.
He doesn’t bother to make excuses anymore. Of what use would it be? For how many times can the car break down in a week and how many late night meetings can one have with his boss? But I still made the bed every night, hoping that he will come home to take his place. I really wonder why all the fuss was made about this marriage.
Mama, Am I mentioning them in the wrong order? That I do not know.

Blessing number two…
The children. A boy and a girl.

“If you’re not grateful for this, I wonder what else you want” you ask.

Cj, the boy, will turn five years next month and Dinma’s birthday was three weeks ago, which Blessing number one, as you may have guessed, totally forgot.
The day I left the house, I got a call from the kids school that Cj had fallen while climbing a tree and was injured. I had to leave work and take him to the hospital.

The maternity/children’s hospital was always full with a lot of people. There were three queues.

-The pregnant ones.
Women with missed periods, waiting for confirmation.
Women in mid-pregnancies, coming for checkup.
Women who were almost due to give birth.

-The not pregnant ones, the queue twice as long.
Women who had not gotten the half-dreaded, half desired outcome with which they could trap some young men with.
Women who were actively looking for pregnancy. Their humanity and femininity depended on it. They were always the best dressed. Since their husband didn’t come with them, who knows the checkup might lead to an accidental you-know-what, an voila! A baby!
Also women who had lost hope, but kept coming to the hospital, not just for appointments, but to keep up with each other.

-The ones with kids, the longest queue.
Women with children, mostly boys for being so reckless. One had his zipper stuck to his little hanging flesh, and wouldn't stop crying. His mom, scared of doing more harm, was not successful at calming him down.

I’m sorry Mama, it is difficult to draw the line between counting one’s blessings and dwelling on other people’s woes.

Blessing number three...
At least, I still have a job. My marriage was able to discourage my boss from making advances. But it also dawned on me that as long as I was there, I was never going to get a promotion. With the difficult recession and hardly anything from blessing number one, things are getting more difficult, but, At least I still have a job…

Four, four, four…

The schools are on mid-term break. I already begged the principal to give me two more weeks of grace for me to pay the children’s fees. Thank God for the small cooperative funds arrangement I have with my colleagues at work, I can pay their fees. But I still have to take Cj to the hospital to check his wounds. The car is with blessing number one. Probably parked in front of a woman’s house.

I am tired of counting blessings now, I will have to go back to my house. But the children have to stay with you for the holiday. Do enjoy your grandchildren. I will be back for them

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