It's just Tuesday.

Tuesday’s can be tough. I know, you’re probably thinking “No way! Monday’s are the worst!” Other’s are commenting “No, it’s Thursday, so close to the weekend but not quite there yet. Even still some are arguing “No, it’s Sunday because you know Monday is right around the corner.” We put weight and value into these days and for each person the measurement varies. We attempt to make comparisons without realizing the units of measurements are completely different. Tuesday’s boxes are large, but filled with feathers. Wednesday has small newspaper wrapped parcels filled with stones. Then there’s still people who insist “Each day is plain, neither good nor bad.”

As a parent in the medical world it’s easy to get caught up in this game of measurement. Friends who used to run to you to sob about how they were up all night with a teething baby are now reluctant to share, thinking “how could I possibly compare?!” Her Tuesday was spent nursing, diapering and prepping dinner. Ours was spent at the 3rd specialist this week, filling medications and going to PT, but it was still a Tuesday. The loads are different shapes and sizes but they are both heavy.

Sometimes the best thing to is to come together with our truck loads, unboxing, unwrapping, and discussing the contents of each package like the UPS driver just dropped off 22 boxes that you ordered 9 weeks ago and can’t remember what is inside. Sometimes it helps to see your rare antique as a common cup. The biggest lesson I have learned is to step away from the medicine and just be Mom. When the medicine overwhelms you, consumes you, becomes embedded into each moment you lose the anchors that keep you grounded.

It’s those connections that keep you Mom. Your neighbor chatting about the ugly tree in her yard, Susy texting you at 2am because the baby still wont sleep, and Mark venting how his kid snuck her phone for the 4th time this week. When your rope frays to threads and you fight for each fiber suspended between your finger tips these moments become the most gracious rushing breeze sways your feet to the ledge to find ground again. It’s in those common exchanges that you forget that it’s still just a teething baby, and just a Tuesday.