Bad Day

What makes a bad day, you ask?
How about an 11-hour work day. When you have to be on your feet for most of it. And you're pregnant. And a broken piece of student artwork. And technological problems that can't be fixed by IT nor Electricians. And a broken serving platter. And no dinner. And they didn't put very many veggies on my veggie sub. And tailbone pain at only 15 weeks pregnant. And the fact that I can't take tomorrow off because I have another big event to take care of.

I came home after dark and Sam rushed over with some drawings for me that he and his dad made. He gave me a hug. I held him and told him I missed him and he said he missed me too and rubbed my back. He sat in my lap and leaned on my chest while I told him how mommy had a bad day. Later, after we were eating his second dinner and my first (at 8 o'clock), he talked about Mom having a bad day and he said "Tari Mom" (sorry mom). He rubbed my arm.

These are precious moments that make bad days a little easier to take.