I stumbled across this photo this morning, while flipping through old pictures with Girlio. Ahhhhh memory lane. Not so much in a good way. This photo occured after the worst day of parenting I have ever had. It was around month three of constant, all day (and sometimes all night) intense toddler tantrumming, while simultaneously caring for a new-ish baby who refused steadfastly to sleep. And by day's end, I was just broken. Exhausted. Emotionally spent. Utterly convinced that this gig was too fucking hard. L found me after finally settling down the kids to bed, crying on the kitchen floor, having not had the energy to actually make it to a chair or couch. And she quietly openned a bottle of wine and poured. A couple of bottles of wine and ice cream straight from the container later, we still hadn't moved from the kitchen floor. But we had somehow moved through tears into laughter, replenishing our energy to move on past the day, and onto the next. And of course, things did get better and easier and more manageable.
So I'm posting this picture as a reminder that there's always the kitchen floor, a coupla bottles of wine and some ice cream right outta the container to help get you through the tough spots.