Some days.

There are some days as a mother when you just survive.  This means that you stack the dishes higher and higher and shove them out of the way to make room for new ones because today, feeding your family 3 meals in and of itself deserves a gold medal. .  This means resisting the urge to curse when you trip over yet another shoe that has been carried into the kitchen.  This means leaving the room to take some deep breaths after realizing you are yelling, "no, no, nooooo" as your 18 month old stares up at you with her hands in the air after having pulled a bag of animal crackers off of the counter and dumping it all over the floor in the midst of all parts of dinner getting done at the same time.  This coming the same week that she has dumped out the cornmeal, cracked a bottle of chili sauce, and dumped a newly opened bag of pretzels all over the floor.  The same night that you have just about had a heart attack because while you turned your head one way she climbed into the bottom kitchen drawer, and is now standing with her hands on the counter right next to a hot burner.  Or earlier today when she is being unusually quiet and you find her standing on the dishwasher door perfectly able to reach the knives on the counter that are usually out of reach.  You quickly have to change your entire baby proof mentality as counters and tables are no longer safe zones.  And one mess after another teaches you that.

A day of surviving comes after your child went to bed 2 hours late, was up for an hour in the middle of the night, and woke up an hour early.  All you want is a nap but all chances for that are lost because during your child's one nap that day, she can't seem to sleep without being held.  You have work that is overdue.  You have 4 loads of unfolded laundry, 2 of which have now been scattered across the living room floor.  You forgot about the 2lbs. of chicken on the counter and left it out for 2 hours.  In between the cries and the tantrums and the discomfort of teething and the 3 dirty diapers and the 3 shirt changes that are so soaked in drool you keep searching for an alternate explanation for their wetness and the nose wipes that pull obscenely long strands of snot from your child's nose... in between all of this and the constant requests for binky, teddy, baby, puppy, and water, you make a valiant effort to clean your child's room a bit.  You put away the blocks and then wonder why you even bother when by the time you've counted to 5 they are dumped out again.  

But then there are moments of light.  Like when your toddler puts a bucket over her head and runs around giggling and running into you because she can't see.  Or when she brings you book after book to read to her while snuggling on the couch.  Or when 6:30 comes and you are at your breaking point but your husband is working late just like every night that week so you cry for a couple of minutes because you are exhausted and overworked and have been screamed at a LOT that day and you know that you have to stick it out for 3 more hours until your child is hopefully asleep and after getting a 2 minute cry in you ask your child for a hug and she willingly leans in to give you one.  

So you hang on to the hug and the giggles and the occasional snuggles to get you through the rest of the day.  And you hope that tomorrow you can live a little instead of just survive.