Today has been a hard day. We all have them although we feel like we shouldn’t. We put pressure on ourselves to be perfect and have perfectly happy days but, nope, we all have hard days.
Today I woke up feeling like a black cloud had descended over me. I felt so sad though I couldn’t pinpoint why. Everything just felt an effort. Like I was trudging through mud, fighting for every step.
I did my best to soldier on. To “snap out of it” but it’s never easy. To be honest I could have quite easily just headed on back to bed for the day but, with a toddler to look after, that’s just not possible.
So instead I did the best I know how. I got my cleaning done, tried to play with Noah (though he likes to be Mr Independent and do his own thing), and we headed to the playground in the afternoon, even though it was grey and grizzly, just so Noah could blow off some steam. And, in the end, we had fun. I revelled in watching Noah exploring the playground, laughing as he slid down the slide and chatting baby talk as he befriended an older boy.
Now I’m sat here at 9:50pm writing this. Jamie’s gone out to table tennis, Noah’s fast asleep, and I feel exhausted like someone’s come along, inserted an IV and used it to drain all my energy. But I feel like I’ve taken a hard day and made it just a bit better. It’s still been a hard day but I made it through.