This was my day:
Woke up and started Potty Training Day 4. Not bad. I only had to wash out one pair of poopey underwear. No other accidents.
Watched 2 other little boys for a little while. The awesome part was that it kept my kids busy and entertained while I got to do a few things around the house. The not so awesome part was that it was quite a bit more chaotic, messy, and LOUD!
The day was filled with incessant whining from my teething 16 month old. She is getting all her molars in (has been for about 2 weeks--why is that always the case?). The sound coming from her was annoying. We're talking the kind of sound that makes the hair on your neck stand up and you don't think you could possibly stand to hear it one more time!
Of course we had tears, fighting, yelling, tantrums, and plenty of NO!s to go around.
It was (and still is) husband and fatherless.
To sum up...The day was hard. No that's not the right word. The day was difficult. No, how about tiring, stressful, nerve racking, possibly a disaster.
AND YET.....
Here I am, sitting on my bed, eating Bon Bons & sparkling cider (ok, gummy bears & water)--trying to relax and enjoy complete me-time; And yet, my first assessment of the day, before I even opened the lap top, was Today was a GOOD DAY. Seriously, I'm not lying. I had that thought first. [I may be finding it difficult to have that thought now after rehashing my day] But really. As I was holding my sleeping daughter just moments ago, I sighed that end of day sigh, and thought, "ahh, today was a good day."
That is a gift. A blessing from God. To end a not so great day according to "the books" and feel good. To have the weight of the good things that happened in a day (however small, few, and far between) to be all that I can remember. Its a blessing and gift that I know comes so that I can get up tomorrow and do it all over again.
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