Mr. Sandman... Please Come... Stat

Today, I'm tired. As in dog tired, weary-to-the-bone tired, could-I-possibly-close-my-eyes-behind-my-sunglasses-and-no-one-would-notice-oh-wait-that's-water-that-my-kids-are-near tired. When you wake up feeling like you downed 45 bottles of wine... except that you didn't... that dreaded "oh bugger, it's one of those mornings" feeling settles in. But you know what? In some ways I'm a better version of me (or the parenting me) when I wake up feeling like someone clubbed me behind the temples (and mind you, I can't drink caffeine because Mr. Jack Jack is still on strike when it comes to artificial pep in my step). I mean, it's truly awesome to look at the clock and do Mensa-speed math on how long until nap time... I feel so proud. No, I don't mean that my math skills are what make me better on days like today. It's that I know that the day is going to stink for everyone unless I pull from my innermost resources to put on my sunshine and rainbows face, find all of my being patient skills and use them, and reframe reframe reframe any and all challenges that I'm faced with (such as putting one foot in front of the other). Basically, it's a whole lot of practicing what I preach (the gods are saying "gotcha" every time someone realizes that yes, you do have to do what you say). I try to work with Molly on not flipping out over every. tiny. little. detail. and that while we all have unfortunate things happen to us, we need to try and maintain some even keel. Patience is something that we also certainly work on and we're always trying to expand those darned horizons and have more empathy for people around us. The ah-hah lesson of the day: what better way to teach these lessons than to actually live them (note: I may have failed a teensy bit on the empathy part with one lady in the parking lot at the library. Seriously, lady, there are lines on the ground for a reason. If I'm in my parking space with five feet of space between our cars, you can back your car out even if my door is open. Thank you for helping me teach my daughter what oh h-e-double hockey sticks means while I pretty much just back your car out for you)? On these most challenging days, it's as if I am participating in an in vivo experiment: this is what it's like to be two and emotionally unregulated. It's good to have these days where you marshall up your strength from the moment your feet hit the floor (at 2am or whenever it might be) and work at setting an example that your kids will never remember (hey ma, remember when I was 2 1/2 and you were overtired? Well, you sure taught me a lot that day) but that hopefully is one more little tidbit that is lodged in their emerging egos.

Nothing bad happened, there's nothing wrong, we're all fine... really... it's simply a case of it being 95 degrees (boo heat boo),  I didn't sleep well, and Jack wanted to party like a rock star in the wee hours of the morning, just because. But when all the small people go to bed at the end of a day like today, it can feel good to just reflect, pat yourself on the back, and say I did it. I made it through today. I didn't get to cure any diseases, I didn't add anything artistic to the world, I didn't really aid womankind in any way, but I did make my kids smile, we had fun, we goofed around, and they ate/slept/didn't soil themselves. Not heroic but meaningful.

Oh, and thank GOODNESS for spouses. It's always nice to see them walk through the door but it's double double special on some days.