Bucket Days

We as parents have those days that we never want to end, the hard ones, the ground hog ones, and then days like today where your washing machine wants to throw you inside, agitate you a bit, and yell,"For the love, please give me a break!"

There was throw up, a few sharts, and lots of "Grab the bucket! Grab the bucket!" Times that a lot of people would classify as a hard day. And don't get me wrong they are, oh they are sooo hard. But to me I can feel awake enough to type this at 11:02 at night and feel so rewarded to be a parent.

As I have my pale, gaunt child with huge green eyes and eyelashes for days lying on me in our tiny bathroom rubbing his tummy in clockwise motions asking me,  "When will it stop?" is enough to make me feel full. No matter the child, the fact that we as adults get to be these semi-super hero figures who figure out how to comfort, how to motivate, how to listen, and how to make the hurt go away as much as we can is a quite a blessing to have. 

(Also having a pretty fabulous mother-in-law to take your two-year old for a couple hours doesn't hurt either.) 

So as hard as days like to day can be, I am thankful to have them. I never try to wish for tomorrow, I just pray for strength and humor and mercy. And those who say prayers don't get answered? Well they have never stopped, waited, and listened. And then had Millie walk down the hall in my blue Converse and say, "What the what?"