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Last Monday morning my daughter calls out from her room in a whiny, high-pitched voice. It’s 6:00am; barely light out. I wake up with a start and feel my head pounding with a headache that seems to be lingering from the night before. I want two more hours of silence in the darkness and the coziness of my bed. My husband is long gone to work leaving at the crack of dawn to fight the traffic into the city. And so I rise slowly, fight the fatigue and weariness in my eyes and in every ounce of my body.

My daughter has dropped her favorite dog that she snuggles with and needs to fall asleep. I struggle and fumble around in the dark, locate her beloved Coco and try to convince her to go back to bed. Even one more hour of rest would mean a world of difference to both of us. After fifteen minutes I know it’s a lost cause and we get up.

And so I know today is about surviving. Surviving the hours until bedtime. Counting down until I can put my daughter back in that very same bed, sit down without a single thought or little person interrupting, and maybe even take a deep breath and really breathe in the stillness. 

These are not the days of homemade banana bread, trips to the playground and books read together snuggled up in blankets on the couch. These are not the days of fun play dates, home cooked dinners and afternoons out with nature walks and hopscotch. These days are not plentiful and sun filled.

These are the days of whiny voices, watching too much TV, and little patience. These are the days of giving in to avoid needless tantrums, chocolate, and more coffee. These are the days of calling my husband and telling him that he better be home from work on time.

These are the days I remind myself are few and far between and that it is okay. No one expects me to be super mom all day, every single day of the week. These are the days we just survive and try to do better the next. These are the days we remind ourselves our children are safe and loved. These are the days, that even though nothing monumental will be accomplished, we will be okay.

 

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Jamie Galvin

Jamie Galvin lives in Massachusetts with her husband and her two very active kids. She loves to write any chance she can to escape the chaos.

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