Proud

I was telling Zach the other day that lately I've found myself being very proud of things I should be doing anyway.

"I got her birthday present to her ON TIME. Go me!"

"I was able to take care of both kids by myself, with no melt downs from anyone (including me)." (Um, yes, you're their MOTHER. This is not an accomplishment. This is standard care.)

"I actually crossed things off my work to-do list." (Yep. That's what they pay you for.)

"I folded the laundry right when I got it out of the dryer. Then, I (gasp!) put it away!" (Again...this is what normal people do.)

My point is, on certain days, I have to take pride in the little things (some would say nonexistant things), because that's all I have to hold onto. Often, I'm just working to make it through each day and hoping that things don't fall through the cracks. So, if it makes me feel better to pat myself on the back for the fact that at least one child ate at least one bite of vegetables at dinner, then I'll do it. Sometimes, it really is all about the little things.