Today has been a really great day. I was up before the kids, showered and sitting down to breakfast all before 8. My two year old happily played by himself while I shared a few rare moments on the floor with my newborn catching her beautiful happy smile. Later, I used my imagination playing with blocks and cars with the Dom and my sweet Charlee took an awesome morning nap. And I still had time to work on the laundry while Dom actually played with playdough on his own. (Usually he tells me what to make but doesn’t care to touch it). Lunch. And then both kids went down for a nap. At. The. Same. Time.
Makes it hard to believe that earlier this week I cried myself to sleep. Makes the memory of a fussy newborn’s tears so distant. Makes the overflowing dishes, laundry and heated emotions disappear. Makes the fact that I had zero time to myself feel like fiction.
Today I feel like a champion. On Monday I felt like a failure. But neither is really the truth.
There are days when I ask my son if he’s having fun and the smile in his eyes is all I need. There are times when my baby girl’s giggle fills me up.
There are also days when I can’t seem to get it together. And that makes me want to call in sick. Play hooky as a mom.
But I’m still a mom. And despite the beatings my mind can give me as I replay my bad days, I can’t define my worth as a mom based on the result that day brought. Some days are really really wonderful. Some days are more the ‘throw the covers over your head and go back to bed’ variety.
Having a bad day doesn’t make me a bad mom anymore than having a good day makes me a good mom. Getting up every day and facing the good days right along with the oh so terrible days (that do come) is what makes me a good mom.
I love my children when the nap and when they don’t.
And I am worthy of the wondrous title mommy when I feel like it and when I don’t.