I woke up this morning by being kicked in the boob.
Why my boob?
Because H is for hell.
I swore over and over and over for the next minute.
Still dressed in my pajamas, day old baby tossed chicken next to my un-pedicured foot, my fingers slammed away the keys.
All I could do was apologize and schedule the meeting for the next day.
I hung my head in shame, and then realized Itty Bitty was looking at me. He just saw me have a mini freakout, say an inappropriate word (please god, don’t let that be his first word….even though I said it enough that it’s probably engrained in there somewhere), and yet he was staring at me with that goofy gummy half toothed grin.
I unplugged after that, and for the rest of the day I decided not to worry. Instead, Itty Bitty and I rolled around on the floor, read and reread his favorite book, and went to his music class. I took the time to breathe, to smile, to laugh, and to not beat myself up.
I needed to give myself a break. Sure, I messed up. I forgot, and I also swore in front of my Itty Bitty.
But I had to let it go.
Because being a parent is harder than any other job or committee I’ve ever been a part of. It consumes my days, nights and dreams. My struggles being a parent aren’t just emotionally demanding, but (thanks to teething) physically demanding. I realized that I was, and still am, doing the best that I can do.
So here’s to Tomorrow. I raise a glass to you, eastern sun, with your new day. I’ll try to get dressed tomorrow, brush my hair, remember my 8 am meeting, eat breakfast, and run our various errands. I have great hope in tomorrow.
And heck, if it all goes out the window, as long as I have my meeting, I’ll feel like I conquered the world.