That kind of day…

It was the kind of morning that started with the toddler charging (my side) of the bedroom 30 minutes before my alarm.  It continued with an attempt to fall back asleep and pretend it’s all a bad dream only to reawaken to the toddler SITTING/JUMPING on my head and accidentally (and gleefully) elbowing me in the lip.

I’m awake.

It was the kind of morning where my daughter spilled an entire bowl of cereal on her HEAD because she fell in her ROLLER SKATES.  Take a minute to envision that.

It continued with me valiantly attempting to journal, only to be interrupted mid-first-sentence by my husband who was looking for his favorite pen.  The one I was writing with.

It was the kind of nap that began with the toddler screaming tirelessly before climbing out of his crib and making it halfway down the stairs before I noticed.  It ended with me rubbing his sweaty, precious head until my back ached and my eyes were heavy.

He’s asleep.

But not for long because I blew a fuse (irony noted) when I plugged in the steam mop to clean our (filthy and only) bathroom.  And that cut off power to the sound machine.

He’s awake.

It was the kind of lunch that began hopeful that I would have a peaceful picnic on the back porch with the 3 older children, but quickly spiraled into me cleaning maggots off of the porch floor because a certain child left a banana peel behind a chair…apparently about 4 months ago.

I’m grossed out.

It was the kind of day where I yelled in frustration, “Pick one!  Bubble Guppies or Wishenpoof!!!”

I blew a fuse.

Deep breaths.

Somewhere in this day I was able to read to the boys about King Tut’s tomb (I bribed them with snacks if they’d sit still).  I was particularly struck by the endurance of the archeologist who dug for FIVE YEARS in the DESERT despite the general consensus that it was a failed mission.  And when he found nothing, he reevaluated, tried a new spot, and struck gold.

So here’s what endurance looked like for me today during what certainly felt like a failed mission.

1.  I recognized that I was having a tough time

2.  I texted an SOS to a few trusted friends for support and was thoroughly encouraged

3.  I took 15 minutes to lay in bed and cry and offer myself some compassion.  Raising kids is HARD.  Heck, being a HUMAN is hard.

4.  I accepted help from my AMAZING husband (who endured my outbursts and offered practical help.)

5.  I spoke with my mentor who shed some light on why I might be suffering

6.  I asked forgiveness from my kids for my outbursts

7.  I listened to soothing music

8.  I had a glass of wine

9.  I went to the gym and enjoyed a MODERATE workout

10.  I ate healthy food all day so as not to shoot myself in the proverbial foot.  *What I wanted to do was subsist on chocolate.

I would really love to hear how you- as a mother, wife, human- endure difficult days.  What does a difficult day look like?  Feel like?  What works?

2 thoughts on “That kind of day…

Add yours

  1. I loved reading this post. I am just beginning to learn to take care of myself in this way. Like when I’ve had insomnia, the next day I choose easy things for our day instead of hard things. Easy food, easy activities, more movies for the day. It sounds simple but I used to always choose the most difficult choice, even (or especially) when I was weak or tired. Reading things like this helps reinforce my new sorts of choices, and reminds me that they are there to be chosen.

  2. I’m so glad you enjoyed this post! And your post-insomnia plan is fantastic. I’m so happy we have modern conveniences like movies and take out for when life is hard! Cheering you on, friend 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: