Some days, I make it to work with a few minutes to spare, even though my son woke up 4 times during my measly five hours of sleep, and I have time to write a blog post.
Some days I remember to put a load of laundry in AND set the timer for it to be done right when I get home from work.
Some days, I get through my five classes without feeling like a horrible teacher, or at least feeling like I can improve in the ways I clearly need to.
Some days the dentist has an opening to fix my recently fallen out filling at the only moment I have available that week.
Some days my son finally goes to sleep even though he’s been fighting his nap for an hour, and I have time to get some much needed grading done.
Some days I actually put that load from the morning into the dryer right after I put my son down for a nap, rendering that morning’s effort Useful and Productive.
Some days I have the inner fortitude to hold my ground when my daughter tells me herself that she didn’t eat her lunch so she can’t have (Kid Z) bar, and after a good ten minutes of writhing and wailing, she perks up and is ready to go home.
Some days I manage to fold that load after I pick up my daughter from school, and neither kid hurts him or herself or breaks something while I’m doing it.
Some days I even get an entire second load of towels in before I need to wash the diaper covers later that night.
Some days my daughter likes the new smoothie my friend recommend, even though it has SPINACH in it.
Some days both my kids eat a reasonable dinner, without me having to coax every bite into their mouths.
Some days my son walks up and gives me a giant hug, just because.
Some day I’m able to do 30 minutes of contract work in the bathroom while my kid plays in her bubble bath.
Some days my daughter keeps telling me that she’s making good choices (ie not screaming her head off) while we wash her hair, and she actually is.
Some days I remember to put the diaper covers in before I start putting my daughter to bed, which means they’ll be ready to hang before I want to go to bed.
Some days my daughter tells me she loves me eight times before she (finally) falls asleep.
Some days I open my reader to find four new blog posts, all announcing incredible news from women I am thrilled for.
Some days my husband greets me with an appreciative nod, and later he even hugs me.
Some days I realize I left my phone on the washing machine before I spend a hour looking for it upstairs.
Some days a long-time friend replies that they’d love to start a new tradition where we share a cabin somewhere in the summer. Would late July work?
Some days a new friend texts to remind me that the photography show her photo is in opens tomorrow and she hopes I can have drinks after to celebrate. I tell her I can’t wait.
Some days I don’t feel too beaten down at the end of an 18 hour day, and I’m not even dreading the next one (even though I’m pretty sure my son will wake me up a bunch of times that night).
Some days I feel like I just might be able to do this, this thing that is my life.
Some days.
What do your some days look like?