Days Like This

Yesterday was not my finest mothering day.

I'm blaming it on a mix between my normal Post Minnesota Trip Depression and children that can smell weakness.  

It was rough.

I yelled too much, said no too much, rolled my eyes too much.

I kept trying to give myself pep talks.  

"Come on Nicole.  Get your act together!"

Each attempt was promptly followed by another annoyance, ranging from missed naps to Jello smeared all over my freshly mopped dining room floors.

I tried to salvage our night with a surprise trip for hot chocolate.

It went well until I tried to sneak in a quick stop at the grocery store and a Target run.  We got home past bedtime and we still hadn't eaten.  I quietly said a prayer of thanks for the leftover Maggianos in the fridge and hoped for a smooth bedtime.

Even with Andrew handling the grunt work, bedtime was prolonged with more post door closing trips up the stairs then I want to remember.  I swear they have an alarm that goes off when my head hits my pillow that alerts them it's time to yell out for something else.

So yesterday was pretty much a total loss.

I didn't give it a fair shot and didn't try to find any beauty in it.

I bet it was there.  I just choose to not find it.  Boo.

Today has easily been a billion times better.

We knocked out two days of school, found time to paint AND play Play-Doh.  We all napped and I'm patiently waiting on our sitter to get here so Andrew and I can go on a hot date.

I like days like this way more then days like yesterday.

But I also know that it's days like yesterday that make me see how great days like today are.  No rain, no rainbows, right?

I'll leave you with Gabe's new pout.

It's amazing and pitiful all at the same time.  He makes sure to make eye contact with the source of his sorrow before lowering his head onto his adorably fat, crossed hands.

Gabe, my heart cannot take this.