I’m Not Going to Lie ~ Some Days are Rough

I was waiting for something eloquent and profound to come to me, words of wisdom to share with the masses. But honestly? I don’t have it in me today.

Because some days are simply hard.

Like when you’ve been sick for more than two weeks with a nasty lingering cough, and you should be on the mend, and instead you spend 10 hours in the fetal position on the couch, your very hair follicles hurting, until you slowly shuffle to bed at 8 pm. That day, after 15 pretty good days of eating Paleo, you eat nothing but a couple Ritz crackers and a slice of marionberry pie. And the house painters finally return to your house to begin finishing up after months of a half-painted house, just when you had decided you didn’t care [twitch] about the caulk marks on the paint right by your front door, and the boys start fighting next to that fresh paint, get it on their hands and coat, and now you have gray paint smudges on your white bathroom door instead of white smudges on the gray paint by your front door.

Or the next day, when you are able to stand up long enough to take a shower, you think “today’s going to be better.” Until your son tells you he has swept the kitchen floor and it still looks like it hasn’t been swept for weeks. Or another son tells you he has cleaned his room, and what that really means is that he took a couple weeks of clean laundry that never got put away and put it back in the dirty laundry basket which is overflowing because you haven’t done it for two days. Or you think to yourself, “Hallelujah, Lola is actually playing quietly and independently for a few minutes,” even though you know, you KNOW this is never EVER a good thing. No matter how awful it is when she won’t play independently, it is infinitely worse when she does. Because that means she shaves off her eyebrows, completely. Or cuts her tongue and wipes the blood all over her shirt and your towels. Or chops off her hair. Or dumps cups full of water in her room. Or bottles full of soap. Or, this day, covers many, many surfaces with bright pink nail polish—herself, her bed, her clothes, her beloved kitty, and her carpet.

I’m going back to bed.