Okay, admit it. We’ve all had one of those days. Those days where you’re not sure whether to scream or crawl back in bed – or maybe scream into the pillow as you crawl back into bed? Those days that make you second guess it all. Well, yesterday was one of those.

After a somewhat restless night (for both myself and H), I woke with a full blown head cold. My head was pounding, my nose was stuffed, and the last thing I wanted to do was get dressed for work. As I look over at the monitor to see H sitting upright in bed, babbling away happily to her toys I think “HOW is she so happy? She barely slept!” Seriously, where does she get that energy from? This magical child surely must be stealing it from me. Anyway, off I went – got myself and H ready (barely) and went about our usual morning/daycare drop off routine.

Fast forward to the evening… after a long day at work (I’ll spare you the details), H and I arrive home to discover Mo (our dog) had thrown up not once, not twice, but three times. Oh, and not just on the wooden surfaces. No. That would be too easy. The first two spots were easy to clean up – if by “easy” you mean trying to keep the toddler from walking in it, while she throws a fit because she can’t get her shoe off by herself, and also wants to be all up in the mess you’re cleaning up. Can I get a mini break here? Oh, it gets better… I thought I had it all under control. Kitchen wiped down, mental note made to wash the floors this weekend, and getting ready to make dinner.

Then I saw it.

The spot on the carpet.

And said toddler’s toys. She just couldn’t miss the toys, could she?

Side note: OF COURSE Logan is out of town for work. This stuff only seems to happen when he’s not around. Not that things don’t go awry once in a while when he’s here, but it always seems extra ridiculous when I only have one set of hands to deal with it all. Single moms/dads, parents with deployed spouses, parents with spouses who work late hours – I bow down to you every. single. day. You are warriors. You deserve medals. If no one tells you you’re doing a KICK ASS job, then allow me to. No one hears it enough. This parenting thing is hard, regardless of situation. But, days like this do force me to take a step back and gut check myself a bit. “Okay, Crystal. It’s really not that bad”. But in the midst of it all, I dare you to try and convince me otherwise.

grace not perfectionAfter cleaning the mess, dealing with a fussy toddler, and Face-timing with the husband, I put H to bed and allowed myself to just be. Just sit. And do nothing. I’m currently reading a book – Grace Not Perfection: Embracing Simplicity, Celebrating Joy, which I swear was written for me. I am a perfectionist to a fault. I know it. But, it’s engrained in me. I feel like I’ve failed if something doesn’t go exactly as planned. Oh, did I mention I’m also a planner? You knew that by now, though. Anyway, one of the first quotes that popped out at me (not to mention the gorgeous layouts/pages of the book), was something along the lines of “who defined perfection for you?”

*Gut punch*

I did. No one else. I am surrounded by wonderful people in my life who embrace the bumps and allow me grace along the way. Yet, I rarely allow it for myself. I’m working on it, though. I mean, I think I’m almost to the point where I can laugh about the day I had yesterday.

I did manage to end the day with an epsom salt and essential oil bath (more on that in a future post), crawled into bed before 9, and binge watched Netflix. I left dirty dishes in the sink, a mess on the counters, and clothes piled on the floor. P.S. anyone else watch Jane the Virgin? I’m beyond addicted – and still a season behind broadcast TV. No spoilers, please!

And, as if I didn’t already know how wonderful some people already are to me, I woke this morning to the dog barking (because surely, someone was breaking in). Oh, no worries…it was just my mother-in-law. She popped over before work with a cup of heaven (aka coffee). She helped get H dressed, and took her downstairs to eat breakfast and play so I could take a long, hot shower and try to clear some of this awful congestion. Sometimes, it takes a simple gesture like this to remind myself that I don’t have to do it all – not by myself at least.

So, here I am. I’m caffeinated, showered, and semi-decongested – all before 8 am. I’m not sure what the rest of the day will bring, but I do know the husband comes home tonight (which means the dog’s anxiety levels will subside back to an only slightly elevated state). In the meantime, I’ll take whatever is thrown my way, and attempt to do so with a bit more grace for myself.

grace not perfectionP.S. Ironic that yesterday was #NationalPuppyDay? As crazy as my anxious dog is, I wouldn’t trade her for the world. She truly is one of the best parts of our little family.

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