Yikes!

I have to be honest and say that when I reread my post from yesterday the first thing I thought was, OUCH--yesterday was NOT a good day. Even Curt came home from work last night and said he was worried after he read my blog because it didn't sound like me. Hmmm... Well observed, my dear.

Yesterday I didn't feel like me. I felt miserable, frazzled, exhausted, alone and I wasn't afraid to write about it. I think on most of the blogs I read, especially blogs by moms, there is usually a post embedded somewhere about the fear of how writing about rough times will be perceived in the future. Looking back, what will this look like? Will I seem like a bad mom? Will I regret being so candid once my kids can read this?

I admit to asking myself those exact questions and truly, I don't know the answers. Even if I do look back and think, Good heavens, why didn't someone have me medicated?, I can always rest in the knowledge that at the time, what I felt was honest and real. I can rejoice that I made it through the days that felt like hell and my family is still alive and well to tell the tale. I can be thankful that I had the space to share what my experience was at the time I was having it and not be afraid of judgement, but hopeful for support.

And really, those nasty days can be considered an invaluable blessing in that they give me the opportunity to learn once again that staying home with my girl (soon to be girlS) does not mean achieving a string of perfection...

A good day does not mean a day without discipline because I have taught Addie something important. A good day does not mean a day without tears because I am not numb to my feelings. A good day does not mean a day without baby feet pushing and squeezing my insides because I have a strong and healthy girl growing within me. Sometimes a good day is simply making it to the end and saying, "I survived."

Yes, I survived. With the leftover sting in my eyes from the tears that rolled down my face yesterday, I survived. And today is so much better, but not because there aren't hardships... We found out the bed we ordered for Addie is nowhere to be found and will in fact not be delivered tomorrow as promised, so now we have to start again from scratch. I had to swoop Addie up in the middle of story time and leave early because she threw glue sticks at other kids and then hit me in the face. I've had several moments when the pain of where baby Lena chooses to stick her limbs is so sudden and intense that I have to remind myself to breathe.

These are the building blocks of our life, for better and for worse. But when I stop and look, there is a lot more better... Hearing Addie play with her Mickey Mouse doll saying, "No, no. No hitting. Sozzy Addie. Oh, be OK." Seeing the joy on her face when she kicks a ball over and over again, in a way that is far more skilled than I have ever been in my entire life. Having her tell me at the beginning of story time that she needs to go potty, then taking her to a public restroom and helping her pee on the potty like the big girl she is. Listening to the giggles that explode out of her when I tickle her knees and seeing her eyes light up when she shouts, "Again!"

Absolutely. So, SO much better.