Today was one of those hard days.

It started with my husband waking up with a fever for the fifth day. After dropping off my four kids at school, I came back to the house to pick him up and drive him to the doctor, as he was too weak to do so himself. I waited in theHow will I manage everything alone? car with my cranky infant for 40 minutes (didn’t want to bring the baby inside to catch all those germs). The doctor suspects mono. I feel terrible for my husband, but also for me. Passover is in three weeks, and how will I manage everything alone? And what if I catch it, too?

I barely had time to nurse the baby before I had to head out again to pick up my 5-year-old daughter and bring her to speech therapy. I brought along an auditory-related homework assignment that gave her a lot of trouble, hoping the speech therapist would gain some insight into the source of her difficulties. Unfortunately, we had an unproductive and upsetting conversation, with us disagreeing where my daughter’s difficulties lie and on the course of treatment. I left frustrated and invalidated, and embarrassed for the tears that escaped involuntarily during the conversation.

After dropping my daughter back off at school, I had to rush to a meeting with the Department of Education about my son’s placement in a special program for the upcoming school year. The social worker who did the intake was pleasant enough, but halfway through the conversation my 7-year-old daughter’s teacher called. She never does—and certainly not in the middle of the school day. It turns out that my daughter had a really bad fall, broke her glasses, now has a black-and-blue eye and “hopefully doesn’t have any glass in it.” The teacher assured me that I could continue my meeting because my daughter was already calm and back to herself, but you can bet that my head was not where it should have been after that.

I picked up my daughter after my meeting and rushed her over to the doctor’s office. Just my luck, he had already left, but the secretary called across town and told me to track him down at the clinic. I drove there with the baby crying the whole way and had to park a block away. The doctor spent a very long time looking in her eye, told me to flush it out really well at home and take her to a pediatric ophthalmologist the next day if it swelled up. I didn’t tell him that I already had a previously booked appointment for the next day for a standard checkup.

By this point my mother-in-law, who was babysitting, wasThe house had been turned upside-down calling every few minutes wanting to know what was taking so long. I didn’t tell her about the mini-emergency (she tends to worry a lot), so I said I had a delay and would be home soon. Thankfully, my once-a-week mother’s helper showed up and relieved my mother-in-law of her duties.

When I finally got home in the evening to my kvetchy and hungry crew, the house had been turned upside-down, with no evidence of the cleanup I had done the night before. I tried to muster up as much energy as I could to get through the dinner/bath/bedtime hours ahead of me, but the children really didn’t cooperate, and I couldn’t blame them one bit.

My oldest had a major temper tantrum about who-knows-what after everyone had gone to bed and woke up the baby, who refused to be nursed back to sleep. I gave up any attempts to clean up or eat a normal dinner, and took the baby to bed with me, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.


Today, G‑d sent me one of those days where I had an opportunity to strengthen my spiritual muscles.

It started when my poor husband woke up with a fever for the fifth day. Thankfully, I had my father-in-law’s car onI had the opportunity to strengthen my spiritual muscles loan, so I was able to bring husband to the doctor after dropping off my four kids at school. I had to wait a bit in the car with the baby (I didn’t want him to catch all those germs), but I was so glad that my husband was able to get an appointment at the last minute, as well as blood tests on the spot. I heard the word mono once or twice, but am trying to remain positive. G‑d wouldn’t give me more than I could handle!

I had time to nurse the baby at home before heading out to speech therapy with my 5-year-old daughter. I wanted to discuss the root of her issues and a plan going forward with the speech therapist, but the conversation didn’t go exactly as I had hoped. Even still, I’m grateful to this therapist who has made much progress with my daughter, more so than our previous therapist. We agreed to meet again in two weeks’ time to go over her progress.

After dropping my daughter back off at school (yes, I got a parking spot nearby), I headed over to the Department of Education for a meeting about my son. The social worker took me on time and was quite lovely, not intimidating like I had thought she would be. Halfway through the meeting, I got a call from my 7-year-old daughter’s teacher informing me that my daughter had fallen in school and broke her glasses. The conversation threw me, but I was so grateful that the teacher had the situation under control and took the time to tell me about it right away.

I picked up my daughter and took her to the doctor as soon as I finished the meeting. The secretary told us that we had just missed the doctor, but she went the extra mile to let his other clinic know to expect us. When we arrived, the other patients in the waiting room let us go first under the circumstances. The doctor didn’t find any remaining pieces of glass in my daughter’s eye, thank G‑d, but recommended I see an eye doctor the next day if there was any swelling. Can you believe that I had already scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor weeks ago for the next day? If a kid is going to break their glasses and have an accident like this one, the night before your appointment is certainly the time for it to happen!

My babysitter (aka mother-in-law) was getting a bit anxious at this point, but as providence would have it, myI didn’t even say a word to them about the mess weekly mother’s helper arrived to relieve her. I always forget when she comes, and it’s always at the most opportune times. My poor kids hadn’t seen me all day, so I didn’t even say a word to them about the mess when I finally got home.

My oldest had a temper tantrum before going to bed, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, even though she woke the baby. I decided to hold off on cleaning up until the next day and bring the baby to bed with me. It had been a long day, and he deserved some extra cuddling time.

It’s all in the perspective.