Yesterday was a hamster wheel day.
I moved, moved, moved all day long, but at the end looked around and saw no progress. Honestly, the only way to gauge that the day had actually happened was by my exhausted body and the way my brain felt like it was going to melt out of my ears. And these are not generally indicators of a great day.
It's hard for me to remember in the moment that not all days are days like yesterday. Not all days start at midnight with a teething baby kicking me in the stomach and end with a tired three year old kicking me in the heart (publicly, too. Oh hey, small group! Going to take one for the team and be the parent with the screaming kid this week. You're welcome!). Not all days have doctor appointments that felt so completely necessary when I made them, but leave me feeling like the ultimate neurotic headcase as I walk out the door (having to say, "Well, you see, he sounds funny when he breathes through his nose" will do that to anyone, I'm guessing/hoping). Not all days bring text messages with heartbreaking news. Not all days make me lonely and desperate and teary eyed because the day feels never ending and even if it does, the next day already looks too hard, too.
Our life is busy and chaotic. It is bursting with life and color and tenderness. It is loud and heart wearying and some days it's just really hard to see past the seconds and minutes and hours into tomorrow. Its just the day and night of our season right now. But tomorrow comes, and as a wise little red headed orphan once crooned, sometimes the sun even comes with it.
So, on days like yesterday--days with baby health concerns and peak toddler tantrums, days where scans bring not the thing you hoped for but all that you feared, days when running, running, running leaves me still at the starting line when everyone else has finished--my mantra has to be, Not All Days. Not All Days. Not All Days.
(and my medicine, oatmeal cream pies chased by ice cream. Because y'all, Not All Days, but seriously SOME DAYS. Oi)