There are days when I don’t want to get out of bed. Those are the days when the kids have been awful and the thought of dealing with the same crap all over again is just too much to bear.
There are days when I yell. Too often. Too loud.
There are days when nothing gets done. No dishes get put away, no laundry gets washed (let alone dried), no cat boxes get cleaned.
There are days when the shit hits the fan and it seems like it’s coming from everywhere and why can’t we just get ahead just this once.
Then there are days when I can run an errand with three kids who not only listen to the rules, but follow them. And get a tv reward because of their good behavior.
There are days when Annie and Izzie play nicely together for more than two minutes and I can do a small project with Drew and we laugh and he writes his name so nicely it makes me want to cry thinking that in 9 months he’ll be in kindergarten.
There are days when I not only think I might be a good mom, but I actually feel it in my bones.