When It Rains It Sprinkles

This has been a bad week. Coming home from seeing my son is always hard in that "smack reality in your face" sort of way. I can't talk negatively because that's just not the new me. I feel like when I was planning my move to Mexico I was over-run with other forced expats about how terrible their lives were and how living in Mexico was some sort of punishment and that bothers me. I want to be that voice that represents the positive aspects of being forced out of your comfort zone. I want people to realize that a deportation does not equal the end of your marriage and/or your happiness. When I have these moments, it upsets me.

I naturally feel the urge to write and express myself, but at the same time, I don't want these petty moments to define me as a person. I came back from Missouri fully aware of my natural tendencies and emotions. This time was no different from others. I have been going through this for a few years now. Watching someone else raise my son. I can't even BEGIN to describe that feeling. I don't even know what to say, or do, or feel. This return was coupled with some serious issues in our home.

For starters my husband is giving his EVERYTHING to contribute to our household. While I was gone he worked 6am-6pm instead of 3pm-12am in attempts to contribute an additonal $17 US to our weekly income. He decided to keep going with that schedule upon my return. We are in somewhat of a self-inflicted, living-beyond-our-means financial crisis and he is determined to repair that. And so I have not seen my husband since Sunday. It's sad and admirable all at the same time.

In addition to all of this emotional and financial stress while trying to make up for my 3 missed work days, we have been having all sorts of problems with our house. The roof is leaking terribly, enough to fill a 20 gallon bucket in a matter of a couple hours and our A/C recently went out. To top it all off our landlord's phone numbers are disconnected so we have no means to rectify the situation.

The only remaining option is to move, which we fully intend on doing. There is a house, 2 doors down from ours, for rent. We love our street and want nothing more than to continue living here. It is unfortunate that our house is literally falling apart at the seams, because we fully intended on staying here until we could purchase a home of our own.

This entire situation is hellish, but at the same time it is refreshingly humbling. There is no reason that I cannot live with a leaky roof or without A/C in 100F+ weather. This is not the worst thing I have ever encountered in my life nor will it define me. So why should I let it over-take my emotions?

The answer is that I shouldn't. The answer is that these situations, when I am not PERFECTLY comfortable, are a blessing. I am learning. I am learning how to do without air, or cable TV, or a dry home. I am learning that I should be beyond grateful to have a home at all. I am learning that nobody gives a crap if I don't have A/C because there are children out there dying from starvation as I type. These are the moments I have waited for my entire life. These are the moments my mother prepared me for. These are the moments that do define me even when I don't want them to. Silly, stupid, inconvenient moments. This is what turns boys into men. This is what humbles an entitled American. This is my savior.