It’s just a bad day, not a bad life. I can’t take credit for such wisdom (I saw it on Pinterest), but I will admit uttering those words to myself as I curled up into a ball, and cried so hard I thought my well would run dry last night. Some days, oh some days, it’s just so hard to digest life. The remnants of the day’s trials and tribulations—helping with 5th grade homework, fighting with a landlord over a necessary refrigerator repair, figuring out babysitting issues, it all just leaves a pit in my stomach.
I try to remember to breath. I try to remind myself it’s just a bad day, but the stark reality of my loneliness in being a single mother sometimes gets the better of me. Throw in a stubborn sinus cold (and an equally stubborn person who refuses to go to the doctor because she doesn’t want to take antibiotics), and it becomes an out of body experience. I imagine standing over myself, shaking my head, wondering what the hell happened. I know I’ll be okay, if I could just get some sleep.
Tonight I’ll try to self medicate with a good night’s rest. Until then, it’s time to soldier on. New rain coats have finally been purchased, and I found the girls snow boots, too. I fed my kids breakfast, packed a homemade lunch (bonus points for the homemade cookies, right?), got them to school on time, fixed an error on Isabella’s attendance record with the main office, and their feet are prepared for winter. Today, I’m going to cherish the small victories.