Have you ever heard the saying that bad things happen in threes?

I had a bad day last week. 1. My son fell and hurt his face. 2. A lack of communication from my daughter's preschool has resulted in her not starting on time. 3. I got sick. It wasn't even over the span of an entire day that these things happened; it was over about an hour, which made it that much worse. Nothing was working, we were all in bad moods and I just wanted the day to end.

Well, the day did end. And the next day was a little better. And then the day after that was even better. As each day passed, nothing seemed as bad as it originally did.

I simply carried Kleenexes with me everywhere I went. B's swollen lip returned to its normal size and he thankfully had no other major injuries. And with E starting school later, I just get a little extra time with my 4-year-old and who doesn't like that?

Perspective. My "bad day" wasn't really that bad in hindsight. No one likes seeing their kids hurt--physically or emotionally. B's wounds have healed and E's disappointment has been replaced with excitement over some fun activities we're doing this week. And once I get over this cold I will love being able to smell and taste things again. Perspective.

It's taken me a long time to learn about perspective. As someone who has a history with depression, it used to be the littlest of things that would send me spiraling.

I'm grateful that I can have a bad afternoon and not have a bad week...or longer.

I'm grateful that my dark times aren't so dark.

I'm grateful that when things start to seem gray I can lean on those close to me to help.

I'm grateful that my husband knows me so well that when I start to slip, he's there to catch me...and to help me pick myself back up.

I'm grateful that I'm learning this lesson:

xo Sara

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