It's a Rollercoaster

I dedicate this post to Mel, who once asked me, essentially, if my life was really as blissful as my blog made it seem.

Yesterday was the kind of day that inspired me to place a phone call to my mother and ask her if all moms have days like mine, or if I was doing something wrong. She reassured me and helped me change my perspective, but the highlights of the day were:

* The kids woke up in coughing fits from the illness they've had since Saturday. Although they had turned the corner, the remnants were still quite visible...snot, red eyes, coughs, and WHINING.

* Before 11am, both kids had been placed in their rooms multiple times for incessant whining.

* Elijah asked for yogurt (his favorite) for an afternoon snack. I got it for him. He then desperately announced that he couldn't eat it at the table like I had asked because he had "no arms." Whining ensued.

* Haven suddenly had no tolerance for any flyaway hairs to brush up against her eyes. At random times all day long she spontaneously burst into Level 10 breakdowns because her "eyes hurt" when the hair touched them.

* Elijah finally decided to eat the yogurt he asked for. After one bite, he declared he didn't like it. I responded by declaring that he was not allowed to leave the table until he had eaten it, since he asked for it and we don't waste food. He proceeded to sit at the table for a full, misery-filled hour before finishing his yogurt.

* Haven got angry at an unknown offense of Eli's and hit him. I put her in time-out, after which she refused to apologize. I put her back in time-out. This cycle repeated itself for 50 minutes. Yes, you read that right. Fifty minutes. (For the record, this is not--by any means--the first time we've had a major battle about apologizing. Since her verbal skills and comprehension are through the roof, her pediatrician has encouraged us to stick with it until she chooses to apologize, no matter how long.) During this 50 minutes I tried explaining it to her, being firm, being soft...you name it. She responded only by saying, "I can't say sorry," or by glaring at me, then turning her head away. She finally apologized when she realized that after she did, we could go get David from school. Eli and I cheered for her.

* On the way to picking David up, Eli mournfully said that his eye was "not workin' " and he couldn't close it. I said we could fix it when we got home. Dismayed whining followed.

Anyway, you see the pattern. By the afternoon my patience was embarrassingly thin. After I talked with my mom, the kids and I ventured outside despite their coughs, and went for a treasure hunt. We found rocks, sticks, feathers, and leaves. Haven was hilarious and Eli was a bold explorer. It was what I needed. We were all smiling at the same time, even if just for a short time. We finished the evening on a better note.

After the kids were in bed I thought about the day, and I came to the conclusion that some days are like that. Life is made up of a bunch of mostly normal days, strung together, and the best you can do is find things to love in the middle of it. Find the treasure hunt. Some days--or some time periods--I think it's harder than others. But always possible, and always worthwhile.