Yesterday was a bad day. It also was a good day.
I started the day with excitement. I woke up brimming with ideas for book promotion. My brain was on overdrive, making lists, thinking of ways to promote the book. I logged into work and diligently prepared for a presentation in the afternoon. I had the children all signed in and doing their work. Life was good.
I stepped out when I got a break in between meetings. Two of the three children were chugging along. The third, watching a video on her school iPad that had nothing to do with school work. I bristled, ordered her to get started, and marched off intent on getting lunch ready. I circled back a few minutes later and saw her staring into space seemingly.
I snatched her iPad and what she had written on there had me crashing from the pedestal I had put myself on. I take pride in my role as a mother. I anticipate needs. I feed them when I am hungry. I insist on routines. I am the mother who enforces bedtime rules. I do everything “I,” think they need as a child. Good food, proper sleep, regular sunshine and of course school work. I carve time from my day giving up on my other guilty pleasures like reading or writing so they have a fighting chance at finishing their work.
I handed her iPad back to her wordlessly, ate food with nary a word and retired to my room to cry fat, heavy tears. The kind that makes you heave and make primal sounds. I had a good cry, washed my face and stepped back into my routine. The day went past. One misstep became a domino. Words grated. Nerves frayed. We all snapped at each other. Bedtime, when it came, was a blessed relief.
This morning, I woke feeling better. I hugged my child. I was determined to put yesterday behind, to march forth knowing pedestals are fragile things. The feelings of being inadequate linger. They threaten to cloud my eyes and my judgement. I walk on eggshells. I remind myself to keep my mouth shut when words are not required.
When an email comes in bearing good tidings or a friend pings genuinely happy for me, I hug myself. I tell myself to savor the good because the dark cloud is just out of sight, ready to rain on my parade.
There are good days and bad days. Sometimes, they fall on the same day.