You know those days?
When the dirty laundry is scattered all around the floor. And someone knocked the clean laundry off the couch so who knows what is what anymore? And the youngest doesn’t have clean underwear. And the oldest can’t find her favorite shirt. Or any shirt for that matter.
The dishes are piled up, there are no clean sippy cups, and you roll over in bed, determined to start the day with a good attitude, only to discover moldy, shriveled up grapes hiding behind a picture frame. Not that this very specific example happened in my house. Yesterday.
The kids have had too many sweets, are bouncing off the walls, and off each other.
You’re inexplicably missing three items from the grocery store – even though you know you checked the list twice before checking out. And now your plans for dinner are ruined.
The kids are fighting, and then admonishing you for not using your kind voice, and surely, surely you’re going to mess these little people up for life.
You have 40lbs of baby and not-so-baby weight to lose. But you grab another six cookies anyway.
Because why not? Because you feel like you can’t do anything right. You can’t find one area of your life that is currently under control. And if you do glimpse that illusion of mastery, every other area just falls further apart.
You look around and pronounce yourself a failure because my God, you should be able to do better than this.
I.
I should be able to better than this.
I like to fix things.
I’m pretty good at it too.
