the hard days

Today was one of those days that made me want to run for the hills. It made me have a great deal of respect for single parents. It made me wish that being in the Navy didn't mean being one. It made me pray, pretty much all day long - for my attitude, for patience, for Jack to stop screaming, for him to take the nap that I knew he needed.

He wasn't being that difficult, but sometimes there are things on your list that don't mesh well with toddlers and today was one of those days. The kind of day where you leave Target with a quivering lip, just hoping you can hold on long enough to get to the car and have a good feel-sorry-for-yourself cry.

After his non-nap and my time on the couch to get it together, we went down to the park. God must know what sunshine and pretty days and the sea do for my soul, because it was 60 degrees and sunny on a day that should have been 45 and damp. I didn't care about the dirt or the sand, because bath time would soon follow. A dear friend met us there and we got lost in conversation about kid stuff and husband stuff and which shows are good to put in your Netflix queue.

I spent a good deal of the day feeling frustrated and impatient and then feeling guilty because I was frustrated and impatient. The cry of mothers everywhere, right? He's a good kid. A sweet kid. I feel thankful every day to have him. He fell asleep in my arms at 5:02pm (no nap, remember?) and I prayed for the rest and healing I need tonight to be better tomorrow. I'm thankful for new mercies in the morning. And I'm thankful that this boy will have the same look of love and delight on his face when he reaches his chubby little hands up for me tomorrow morning as he did today. And yesterday and the morning before.

I'm thankful for morning.