Monday was not a good day. I started out feeling like Mary Poppins.... I had a massage and some time to myself on Sunday. I felt refreshed and excited to take on a new week. We woke up, and things just slowly started to pick away at my patience and my confidence until I was counting the minutes until naptime. "Tomorrow will be a better day," I told myself.
And then when neither kid napped, I was counting the minutes until early bedtime. And when then bedtime routine dragged on forever and early bedtime tuned to very, very late bedtime.... I felt like crying. I was ready for a glass of red wine and a chance to catch up on the DVR. I just wanted a little bit of time to unwind from the long day, to restore my patience so that I could take on another day. "Tomorrow will be a better day," I told myself.
That night, both kids were up at night. I logged only a few hours of sleep and woke up cranky with my patience wearing thin before the day began. "You guys just need to get out of the house," my husband advised. So we (slowly) pulled ourselves together to meet friends at the local children's museum. When Madeline (my not quite 3 year old) fell asleep in the car, I felt validated in my own fatigue - I can't recall the last time she slept in the morning! "We're both exhausted," I told myself, "just run it off at the museum and catch a good afternoon nap." Feeling defeated at 10 am, I cried the whole way to the museum. "Tomorrow will be a better day," I told myself.
We walked in to what felt like a mob scene. Spring mother f---ing break. How could I have forgotten? But we spotted our friends, which made me smile and I was determined to make the best of our day, madhouse and all. Madeline had other plans. I dodged strollers and stepped over kids to chase after her in the crowded museum. I held her brother Jack (who recently celebrated his first birthday) so she could engage in a few focused activities. This made him unhappy.... so I searched for something that would please them both, with little luck. I took deep breaths. I wanted to cry again. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sleep! "Tomorrow will be a better day," I told myself.
We managed to make it through lunch and I raced home to put the kids down for a nap. Neither one took one. I tried to clean the kitchen. Jack had other plans. "Tomorrow will be a better day," I told myself.
Somehow we made it to bedtime. Somehow I got a full-night's sleep. And you know what? Somehow tomorrow WAS a better day. So tired moms, overworked moms, underpaid moms, and moms just having a bad day - tomorrow will be a better day. And if it isn't.... just keep repeating the mantra until it is!