Some days I’m killing it. Other days I can’t get out of my own way.
Sometimes I wake up, fill out my gratitude journal, get my boys dressed and ready for school, put my face on and remember to pack a lunch.
I can keep things in perspective and stay in my own lane. I tackle my to-do-list and feel perfectly capable and confident. I’ll end my day with that gratitude journal and feel true peace with how I’ve conducted myself for the latest 24 hours.
Other days though, those other days, I can’t mentally clear a path to walk through. I start my day with the three things I can find to be grateful for, and it’s a struggle. I barely make it out the door in one piece, usually forgetting someone’s shoe(s).
On those day’s I’m stuck in my head and can’t make sense of anything at all. Though I continue to try. Continue to make the to do list that doesn’t get done. Keep trying to figure out where I went wrong. Where everything went wrong.
I somehow make it to end of the night, frayed, frazzled and maybe crying. I sit down to write the three things that went well and usually land on something to do with the kids, or the weather. Because nothing else makes sense.
I lay in bed filled with anxiety and a racing brain that just won’t listen to reason. I pray for peace of mind and clarity, drifting off to some nightmare about something else I can’t control.
All to wake up and do it over again. To do it better. Stronger. More completely. More peacefully perhaps.