The other day I was having one of those days.

My toddler was screaming on the floor because I’d moved his “bull-truck” to the wrong position on the couch (apparently).

I felt like my brain was operating on about 5% capacity from being woken god-knows-how-many-times the night before. (Just like pretty much every night over the past 2 years!)

The dishwasher door was open with only half the dishes put away, clumps of dried-up scrambled eggs were littered all over the table, floor and my son’s booster seat, and the sight of my looong to-do list, and the knowledge that I had SO.

The other day I was having one of those days.

My toddler was screaming on the floor because I’d moved his “bull-truck” to the wrong position on the couch (apparently).

I felt like my brain was operating on about 5% capacity from being woken god-knows-how-many-times the night before. (Just like pretty much every night over the past 2 years!)

The dishwasher door was open with only half the dishes put away, clumps of dried-up scrambled eggs were littered all over the table, floor and my son’s booster seat, and the sight of my looong to-do list, and the knowledge that I had SO.