wise words said to me by lucy as tears streamed down my face unable to comfort her baby sister for almost the whole day. “the day is almost over,” she kindly said as she caressed my face, i looked into her wise eyes, thankful for her wisdom and for the reminder. this day was hard, not being able to console or put the baby down – was hard. but this day will pass and will be a day in history that i will soon forget, lost in chubby baby cheeks, gummy smiles and fits of laughter. but as i sit and type this with tears filling my eyes because i feel less, today i was unable to soothe this baby, i was unable to figure it out, my day was filled with crying, screaming and having to tell lucy over and over again to “just wait”. to wait to play, to wait for lunch, to wait to talk. this makes me feel less, for today i couldn’t manage both of my children, both of which needed me for completely different reasons. i know in my heart that what i am doing is the work of saints; raising children, loving them, being there for them and delusionally trying to live up to the expectations of the showered, sparkling clean house, ‘i can do all’ kinda of mom that is sold to us. i am not showered, in fact i am still in my pajama bottoms and i am trying to get dinner on the stove, i am not perfect and i never will be. i cry in front of my children and let them know that i cannot do it all. and in the end i am thankful that through all my imperfections, through all the uncertainties, through all the hard days, lucy has enough compassion to come comfort me and gently remind me that, “this day will pass, the day is almost over.” in those moments i come out of my self pity and realize that i must be doing something right.