The dog is crunching up a piece of plastic in the living room, my feet are icy cold because the one pair of socks I can find is in the bathroom, where Julie has ensconced herself and will remain for the next half hour. Jessie stopped sleeping thru the night six weeks ago, and is miserable and incoherent, and I ran out of cream one cup into the day.
It’s snowing.
This is not a day I’ll look back on wistfully.
I do try and be present and mindful. Aware of the blessings and joys of raising these three kids, married to this man. But on days like today, when the dog has decimated two plastic spoons, and thrown up in the living room…I actually prefer to pretend I’m elsewhere.
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