One of those days

I feel, in some ways, like my sweet little blog is failing me.  When I find time to update it, it is a fantastic way to reminisce about the good ol' days.  But what about the crappy ol' days?   The days when I'm ready to wean and my baby isn't?  How did I handle that last time around?  The days when I am confused about choices we have to make and feel guilty about whether or not I'm doing the right thing?  The days when I'm tired before I even get out of bed and I realize that no matter how many successes or failures I had yesterday in wife-ing/mothering/nurturing/housekeeping/truth-teaching/friend-being, I have/get to do it all over again today, and hopefully even a bit better than yesterday?  If I look back on my blog can I learn from the moments of success amongst all of the smiling photos and happy memories?  Thankfully I keep a journal, too.  I guess I could pair them up side-by-side and see if I'm growing into myself at all as the days and months and years roll by.

So, this morning at 8:35 I found myself hanging off a ladder outside my bedroom window, trying to break in to my own house because the garage door- yes, the one that has never been locked even once in the entire 3 years we have lived here- was locked.  I was very grateful to the neighbor that lent me her ladder, and for the good weather that kept our bedroom windows open.  But it should have been an indicator to me that a crappy ol' day was looming.

The kind of day when you return your library books to the wrong library.

And you are on hold for 28 minutes with the insurance company that is denying your claim that having your baby in a car really constitutes a true emergency that should be followed up with a ride to the hospital in an ambulance.

And the pharmacy calls about a prescription you didn't know your pediatrician wants your child to start taking.

And the key ingredient needed for dinner is nowhere to be found in your house.

And the boy with the bladder of steel wets his pants big time.

And your baby won't sleep because, well, pick a reason.  Teeth, noise, timing.

And you have to scold one child for being disobedient and the other two for pummeling each other again (which is only mildly adorable because they are just 3 and 1).

But then you take a deep breath, and remember the good parts-

The 28 minute hold on the phone provided you a chance to chop up all the veggies needed for a delicious dinner, and the missing ingredient allowed you the chance to walk over to a friend's house and have a few minutes of adult conversation.

It's raining.  And that is always a good thing.

Emma has started signing "more".  Adorable.

Jason came home early, and Family Home Evening was a success.

There is chocolate in the house.  Doesn't even mean I have to eat it.  It's just good to know it's there.

The kids dropped into bed like flies, exhausted from a fun day at the park.

Life is good.  Even when it's hard, I'm so grateful that it's not that hard.