Some days, I just have my shit together. Not always, but sometimes. Today was a good day. A day when, even though I was on my own with the kids for almost 15 hours, and even though I was in considerable pain all day, I got shit done, and held my shit together.
It wasn’t anything spectacular. We didn’t explore a new section of the neighborhood or take the train to a museum. We did, however, brave the heat to play at our beloved Lazarus Playlot, not once, but twice. The kids and I ate three meals instead of just two. Ramona took a nap. At the playground, I found (read: saw and ran screaming from) a katydid that all the kids loved handling and observing. I washed a few dishes and wiped down the bathroom; even swept the floors. Jude and Ramona took a bath, and I took a shower. Bedtime was tear-less. And now I’m happily exhausted.
I’m hopeful about tomorrow. The temperature is supposed to top out at about NINETY-SIX FRAKKING DEGREES, so the kids and I are planning to hit the beach after nap time. In the evening, I’m getting together with some friends to make birthday party decorations, drink wine, and eat snacks. I’m also planning to somehow fit in a run because my aforementioned back pain.
Here’s to good, plain, run-of-the-mill days.