bad mom days

Last week I had one of my best days of my life. Yes, the morning was littered with tantrums from everyone, but I didn’t mind. I welcomed the learning opportunity for all of us. My oldest was angry that life isn’t fair and that he doesn’t get to do what he wants all the time (totally feel you, buddy). My middle was angry that I couldn’t spend the morning with her alone in her room (yup). My tot was angry because people didn’t like him biting them. But, truly, the day was peaceful because I was peaceful. The other night my husband described what’s been going on for him with his case files lately (response briefs! motions for summary judgment! The stuff that only another lawyer could love) and I recoiled inside. Oh My Gosh my day is so easy. My kids crying? Fine. My kids not listening? To be expected. I don’t get dressed or clean the house? No one cares. I don’t have deadlines and clients and billable hours to worry about. I have playdates, nature hikes, and baking muffins. The only thing expected of me is to be kind. And that’s what I’m expecting of myself. That’s my standard from now on. Kitchen not cleaned up? I’m not going to let it rattle my slightly semi type-A personality. Toy room trashed? So what. I’ll tidy up later. My hair looks like a bad ombre. That’s fine. I really don’t care and will get it colored in a few weeks. (Cue…