Last night I was changing for bed and took off a shirt heavily dotted with crusty apples, snot and blood. Yes, blood. I was defeated.

How come bad days as a mom are so much worse than a bad day when you were a regular person? Before, if I had a bad day, I probably only hurt myself (mentally, physically, or both), but now, I feel like Linc's whole world is ruined if I have a bad day with him. After all, he deserves to have the best mommy who only gives him good days.

Yesterday, though, started bad--sick and already missing my husband, who left Sunday for a business trip, I woke up depressed. But, with that cute little boy smiling at my side, I shook it off and got going. I told Linc of the great day we were going to have together. We could cuddle, look at the snow, watch holiday movies and read and play during my work breaks. I FAILED HIM! I LIED!! We didn't do any of that! The day was spend wrestling him away from the dog bowl and stairs, trying to get him to play with his toys instead of my computer and phone, and dealing with several injuries (hence the blood on my shirt). I got splattered with food, spit on and hit. The fun, relaxing day I promised him never happened, and I sadly kept wishing he would just take a nap. That is something that is so difficult for me to admit. I wanted him to take a nap so I could just be (should I say it?) left alone. I'm sorry, Linc!

The final straw was when he fell flat on his face onto the floor (the nice new hardwood we put in a few weeks ago, of course) and came up with a bloody, swollen mouth and screams of pain. At that point I was cursing myself for not taking him to daycare. He would have been safer, happier and had a way better day there! I, his own mother, gave him one of the worst days of his life! Oh, the guilt!! I spent the rest of the night sulking and staring at his lip wondering how big it was actually going to get.

This morning didn't start off too well either. I woke up at 6 a.m. to the weatherman saying how icey it was. That's the LAST thing I needed at this point because, had I gone out there, something was for sure going to happen (to Lincoln, probably). I didn't wake up with confidence, so, after telling work and daycare I was going to be later because I wanted to wait for the roads to clear, I just laid in bed with Linc. We were safe. Safe in bed. Man, how I wanted to stay there. Eventually we got up, I got him ready and struggled through preparing his lunch (while forgetting mine) as he hung on my leg crying because I wasn't holding him (If he only knew how I wanted to hold him constantly).

I drove him to daycare all grumbly and sad, kissed him good bye and wished for a day filled with fun for him...a day I couldn't give him yesterday.

Through his puffed up lip, I could see his smile. He was smiling at me. He got sad when I left and smiled when I kissed him goodbye again and told him Miss Natalie was going to give him his yummy breakfast that I made. He loves me still even though I failed. He has faith in me even though I have my doubts. He depends on me when I feel I don't have much good to give anyone.

I'm still sad as I write this, but I'll take the rest of this day here at work to shake it off and regroup. When Linc and I meet up again, I'll just promise him that no matter what we do or what happens, I'm trying my best and I love him and I expect the same from him.