the best days

I'm grateful for the best days. THE BEST. The End.

Joining other gratefuls over at Kidspot Village Voices

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the awful mother

Yesterday I was the worst version of my mothering self. I did all the things I shouldn't have and couldn't stop myself from doing them. Mostly the yelling. My God the yelling. It never works, so why did I do it? All. day. long. It seemed as if the kids had earplugs in and I was yelling at myself just for fun. Cause that's so much fun. Sometime after lunch Ruby asked me why I was so cranky? You've been yelling all day mum, why are you so grumpy? When she asked me, I stood in the kitchen, trying to think of an answer to her very fair question. Why the hell was I so shitty today? I had no answer.

Ruby and I have had this niggling cough, but only at night. I guess we're not sleeping very soundly. It was just one of those days that begins poorly with kids jumping on your head, ready to start the day, when all you want to do is pull the covers high, and get the imaginary nanny to take them to the park. So you can lay warm, in the darkness, in the silence. It was one of those days where you think by lunch time, it must surely be dinner time? Where you think surely the chain of events of the day so far, that have seen you cleaning up, mopping up, vacuuming up broken glass, prying screaming kids apart, feeding, feeding, feeding seemingly hollow legged children, hearing MU-UM bellowed 3,498 times - surely - it must end. That must be enough for one day? My relief came at 3.50pm when hubby arrived home to collect Ruby for dancing. The boys turned back into normal children, they played happily, I took the opportunity to bath them early, and I made meatballs. And breathed.

A light bulb moment made me realise that end of year exhaustion has arrived early. For us all. I'd be ever so grateful if it buggered off for another month until it's time to put our holiday pants on and get the hell out of here.

Why do we have these days? To remind us how horrible we can be? To catch a glimpse of our worst selves? To test us? To doubt ourselves and our capabilities? To see how easy it is to lose your shit? Just for fun? To make us ask ourselves stupid questions? Or to remind us how grateful we are in the most backhanded way possible? I'm going with the latter. Because days like yesterday should leave something good in their wake, even if it's the tiniest speck floating in a river of rubbish.

I am grateful for my kids. My three, healthy, beautiful, LOUD, kids. They fill up our home with their little bodies, full of love, their big loud voices, their constant noise, their drawings left everywhere, their books pulled off shelves, their playroom upended. And their smiles. Their beautiful big smiles. We must be doing something right.

I am grateful for my hubby. Who knew when he left home yesterday morning that I would struggle through the day and be far worse for wear by the time we saw each other again. He busted his arse to get his work done so he could leave early to take Ruby to dance. So he could help me.

I am grateful that somebody else's best days are my worst days (not in a my life is better than yours way). I've said it before, I'll say it again. I live a blessed life with a wonderful, loving husband, happy and healthy children, a lovely home, food on the table, clean clothes on our backs. Some days it's easy to forget all that when nothing is going right, only wrong. I am grateful these days are dotted through my life so lightly.

Linking up with other gratefuls for Kidspot Village Voices