Silver linings apprentice.

We’ve all been there - the moments when life throws us curveballs and everything goes sideways. A water main breaks and cuts off water on a critical laundry day. You make a careless mistake and ding your brand new car. Or your dog needs an emergency vet visit on your first free beautiful weekend. (Yes, all of this happened to me this past week). In those moments, seeing any bright spot or silver lining can feel impossible - or just absurd. 

Still, I've developed an arguably annoying knack for hunting silver linings like my dog Lizzy hunts down a bone that's somehow upstairs, outside, and buried in a planter (but that’s another story). I’m that person who can’t help but tell myself "at least..." or “maybe this is a lesson…” even in the messiest, shittiest situations. I’m not really sure where it came from. Maybe my brain was just built that way. Sometimes I wonder if my optimism is actually a character flaw. That is, until I heard my 7-year-old Jack start mirroring these exact words. It got me thinking maybe… just maybe… this isn't the worst trait to pass down.

Then came Saturday.

The day started with promise: sunshine, no commitments, just quality time with Jack and my dog Lizzy. Plus the water main break in from earlier in the week was finally resolved (yay clean running water!) When friends invited us over, it seemed like bonus points on an already beautiful day: A trampoline! A water bouncy house! A playground circuit! Watching everyone (including Lizzy) have fun got me mentally patting myself on the back for being a great human and dog mom - when I heard Jack's voice across the field: "Lizzy's paw is bleeding and it's a lot, Mommy!"

Our goldendoodle had, in her excitement, jumped off a playground ledge, landed funny, and torn two claw nails backwards. I'll spare any further details on what I saw. I'll just say, there's something uniquely disturbing about most human and pet injuries that makes my heart race and stomach fold in on itself. I'm that person who watches any shows involving blood, injuries, or anything similar through my own hand blinders. So I immediately turned to an urgent vet visit. When the vet's initial evaluation turned into a look of concern and mention of "possible surgery," I could feel my heart racing again, my hand clenched, and might have actually covered my eyes while she talked to me.

But she wanted to do a closer evaluation of Lizzy's paw. Within moments came back to me: "Good news. It's not as bad as I thought. We're looking at a simple procedure we can do today," the vet shared. "She'll be done here in about 30 minutes and we’ll send you home with meds."

When the bill came to only $378, not the thousands I'd also catastrophized, I felt almost giddy with relief. This could have been so much worse.

Later, picking up Jack from our friends' house where he'd gotten to stay and play with his buddy during the whole ordeal, I sighed dramatically: "This was NOT how I expected our day to go."

Jack looked up at me, grass-stained and sweaty. "But Mommy, at least I got to play outside ALL DAY!"

The silver lining apprentice had spoken.

The universe wasn't done with us yet, though. On the drive home, I misjudged a turn and scraped my three-month-old car against a curb. I was sure I’d left an ugly gash across the wheel. Once home, Jack and I both got out to inspect the damage. We looked at the wheel, looked at each other, and simultaneously shrugged.

It could be worse.

Standing next to Jack as we shrugged at our scraped wheel with acceptance, I felt something beyond just relief. It was my little silver linings apprentice and me, a two-person optimism team facing life's curveballs together. I realized I wasn't just teaching him to find brightness in dark corners, he was also reminding me why it matters.

I've realized it’s not about minimizing problems, denying disappointments, or “toxic positivity.” It’s about accepting the reality of any situation and then making a conscious choice on where to direct our focus. Not in a 'let's pretend it's fine,' but it's more like, 'okay, now what?' As the saying goes: "Your perspective will either become your prison or your power." The silver linings or optimistic perspectives are always there, often hiding in plain sight and waiting for us to make our next move. We get to decide whether we're willing to see them.

And if you ask me? I'll take that kind of life outlook, and that kind of teammate, every single time.

P.S. Perspective is powerful. But sometimes we all need a little backup. Ours is the Calm the F*ck Down candle. Make no mistake, it definitely earned its keep this weekend.