It's the same place, dude.

Have you ever found yourself at the end of a situation where you were happy with the outcome, but mad about how you got there?

The tiny human (2yo) I shepherd through the world reminded me of this the other day.

Picture this: It's 4:45pm. You just fought through traffic for a solid hour, and you're determined to get the Paw Patrol mac & cheese the tiny human has requested. You score a parking spot at the local Target, and suddenly hear from the back seat, "NO! I WANT DARK TARGET!"

Dark Target (place): It's just the underground parking lot under Target. Yep.

Dark Target is: 1) Dark and 2) has an escalator.

Despite my best efforts at gentle parenting, my response comes out:

"It's the same place, dude."

It had the same mac & cheese, and fruit snacks, and raisins he wanted.

What I've realized though, is that's not really the fucking point.

I like to make tiny bouquets when my big bouquets start to die.

I've spent years angry that I successfully "rose out of poverty."

I still talk about how COVID made my long awaited pregnancy bittersweet.

And I will 100% pick a fight if my husband does a task in the wrong order of operations.

Sometimes, how you get somewhere means as much as the place you're going.

Only you get to choose what matters here.

And next time, I hope I ride the escalator.