At least our socks are clean

I was with our son in the doctor's office the again other day for a treatment.  As he lay on the table, doctor busily trying to adjust tight muscles, release trigger points, relocate a rib hear and there, I noticed his socks didn't match.  I wondered if I should be embarrassed but all I could think is "well, at least they're clean!" And I realized that's sort of an antidote for my approach to life these days.  There is too much.  Too much to think about, too much to get done, too much to care about, worry about, plan for.  Three kids, with 17 diagnoses, a husband, a house, a job, a dog, and a bird.  Of course his socks don't match.  But at least they're clean.  Find the victory, not the defeat, right?   I can only care about so many things before the war of priority erupts in a battle of guilt and resentment in my head.  I learned, pretty much through a breakdown a few years ago (a whole other post), that you have to learn to choose your worries and st