Tag Archives: hard days

Today is the day.

  Today is the day. The day that I read scripture before my kids woke up (rare). The day that I resolved to parent with grace (again). The day I made a nice, big, healthy breakfast for everyone. The day I made a really, really great cup of coffee. The day I got a quick workout in after dropping my daughter at preschool.

It is also the day EK “needed five more minutes” before doing every single thing I asked her to do. The day my son took every item out of every drawer in my kitchen. The day Hubby didn’t feel so hot. The day it was so rainy that my motivation to get things done died at the start.

If I laid out every day like this, a moment-to-moment “things that happened” or “things I did”, how disappointed would I be? How many days would I say I had missed the mark, or wasted too many minutes or even hours? I doubt I would be impressed by my daily productivity or nominating myself for the “best executed day” award. (Thank goodness that’s not a thing, by the way.) I probably would no longer even be happy about the things I did accomplish.

But the things I did accomplish go without mention. The fact that my kids are clean, dressed and well-fed, the snuggles and kisses, the number of times I sang the alphabet song, and the fact that I took a shower. These things are on a list of “things moms should do without recognition”, even though these seemingly simple things are the hardest things I do all day. No one knows as well as I do the struggle it is to get pants on my son, or to get ten uninterrupted minutes to wash my hair or shave my legs. There are days that I feel like I should get a medal for doing those things!

Today, in fact, is that day. So, in honor of whatever your today held, here’s your medal – a medal and a hug for getting dressed today, for washing a dish or two, for getting the groceries, even though you forgot the eggs. Here’s a medal for any outing you made with the kids. Here’s a hug for any moment you were covered in some sort of bodily fluid, and a hug for any time that you’ve heard more cries than laughs. You deserve it.