The Perfect Day

Every day I wake up hoping this is going to be THE day. You know what I mean. That perfect day when everything just clicks. The sun shines. The birds chirp. The baby sleeps through the night. All the girls wake up happy. They eat their breakfast. Everyone's lunch is homemade and healthy. Everyone gets dressed and out the door on time. At work there is no stress. The ride home is traffic-free. Homework is done cheerfully. The baby sleeps while the rest of the family eats dinner together. No one spills their drink. We spend time together laughing. Pajamas are on, teeth are brushed, and bedtime stories are told without complaint. The kids all go to sleep at the same time. Mommy and daddy relax and toast themselves for being so awesome. Everyone sleeps for eight hours.

For about thirty seconds each morning this dream is a possibility...and then real life happens.

Real life is being woken up even when the baby does sleep through the night by the hungry cats because no one remembered to refill the food dish. Real life is sharing your bed with an acrobatic six year old because she doesn't like to sleep alone. Real life is the two year old screaming "Daddy" with increasing volume and intensity over and over until someone brings her downstairs for milk and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every morning. Real life is eating cold scrambled eggs with your fingers rather than putting them down the disposal. Real life is letting the 1st grader eat school lunch because you're sick of listening to how gross everything you pack is. Real life is yelling like a maniac to get everyone off the couch and out the door (kind of) on time. Real life is staffing issues and patients that earned their own Google University MD. Real life is getting up a dozen times during dinner. Real life is covering the baby's head with a napkin so she can nurse while you eat. Real life is being told the meal you cooked is disgusting. Real life is enough food on the floor to feed another person. Real life is bickering and crying over whose turn it is to pick a TV show. Real life is a bedtime routine that feels like it will never end with everyone falling asleep at different times. Real life is doing chores for hours after the kids go to bed. Real life is climbing into bed feeling a bit wounded and disillusioned. Real life is admitting eight hours of sleep might never happen again.

Real life is knowing that despite how hard it is, you're going to miss it all terribly when it's over.

Welcome to my real life. A life filled with the constant struggle between following the guidelines and finding happiness by any means necessary. A life peppered by giggles and tears. A life punctuated by my many attempts at achieving that perfect day...