Back on July 4, 2013 Marielle, my wife, was running the Finish at the 50 in Foxboro. I was in charge of getting my three kids to Foxboro Stadium to watch. No sweat. I’m a stay at home dad. 3 kids? I could handle 7 if you wanted me to.

We get to the stadium BEFORE Marielle does and are walking around the vendor area. Here’s the thing – with 3 kids 5 and under there are only so many vendors that they are interested in at a race. Like none of them.

And so it begins: “How long are we going to be here?”
“It’s hot.”
“My legs are tired.”
“Wahhhhhhhhhh” (Ella hungry or tired or just pooped all up her back and needs a diaper change)

“I’m hungry.” – Now that I can handle. You’re pick of the lot at this event. Larabars, Goo packs, Rx Bars, Bananas, some Paleo bar that tastes like crap but everyone says it’s awesome because they are trying to convince themselves that’s the “healthy option” but really a brownie would be so much better.

Since no one can make up their minds I grab 4-8 Larabars (and receive judgy eyes to which I shoot back a glare of “you walk around in 90 degree weather with a Baby Bjorn on and two other toddlers at the witching hour of 5:30 dinner time.”)

Two minutes after my oldest eats his bar: “Daddy, my throat is itchy.”

I knew exactly what he meant. I grabbed another bar from my bag. Before I got it out my son is throwing up all over the place. I look at the ingredients – in bold – walnuts, hazelnuts and cashews. The triumvirate of tree nuts for my son. All star “I can handle 3 kids” dad apparently can’t handle 1.

We go to the clinic right there at Foxboro. They give him 2 epipen shots. He seems to stabilize. Then he doesn’t. Into the ambulance. Norwood Hospital. A few hours later (Brady coming in and out of consciousness) the doctor says, “I’m going to talk to you as a parent. If this was my kid, I would send him to Children’s.” You’re the friggin doctor and that’s what you offer?!?!? We aren’t at Children’s though!!! What are we going to do AT THIS MOMENT?? His vitals machine just keeps beeping and going off.

I have never felt so useless. Maybe even empty. I was absolutely powerless to help my son get better as they are trying to put a tube down his throat. ALL of the thoughts came into my head. I mean ALL of them.

Every Friday on our gym’s private Facebook page we have what we call Bright Spot Friday. Because we all have hard days, weeks, months, seasons… What I have found is that even when all the things seem to be hitting the fan – there are still bright spots. Now maybe it’s mostly cloudy but there are still pockets of sun that periodically shine. And that is what needs to be seen. That’s really what gratitude is. Acknowledging the Bright Spots.

That doctor felt our son would get his best treatment at Children’s. She ordered another ambulance ride. We went. And he did.

I think we get lost in the cloudiness sometimes – schedules preventing us from making it to the gym, weight is not where we want it to be, holidays are hard because we miss people, (fill in the blank).

But in all of that – What’s your Bright Spot? Where does your gratitude sit?

I can get lost in the arguing of kids or disagreements with my wife….but I’ll start: My oldest, tree nut allergy son is about the most committed person I know when it comes to…just about everything. My middle child creates and creates and creates stuff I can’t even begin to imagine. My daughter will dance with her goofy dad in the living room any time I ask. My wife is so much stronger than me that I never fear getting mugged in a dark alley. I do what I love and the love the people I get to do it with.

The challenge I have – instead of Bright Spot Friday…why not Bright Spot Tuesday…and Wednesday and Thursday too?

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!