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I Wish I Could Go Back In Time

Today, was J’s, Spelling Bee. She is such a spelling champ. This was the regional bee for the Archdiocese. She studied so hard but got out on her third word: martyr. Of course, other kids got words like “olive” and “knob.”

After the bee (during which I took no less than 10 media calls about American canceling flights), we swung by the vet and picked up DOGGY from his 10-day quarantine. On the short drive home he proceeded to pee and puke all over the back seat of my car, and he shed all over the kids’ car seats. I was ready to take him back to doggy jail. Just as I was about to (@#(*@*(#&*$()@*#$()@*, quietly J began to speak: “I wish I could go back in time,” she said. The comment took me by surprise. “What is it you want to do differently?” I asked. “I would spell martyr correctly…I was going to win today.”

My heart sank. I thought of how much courage it takes to say those words: “I wish I could go back in time.” Every time I hear someone talking about wanting to go back in time I think about these dates: March 1991. July 1993. March 1996. January 1999. These are the months of my deepest regrets. My prayer today is that the greatest reason J will ever have to want to go back in time is to avoid misspelling martyr.

Recently, I was talking to my dear friend and confidante, Linda. She was giving me advice on something and she said regret is a luxury. “So low on the list.” I just LOVED that and have been carrying it with me for a couple of weeks now.

Gen X Blog Jennifer Chronicles

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