A matter of perspective.

I try not to have a favorite day of the week. 

Or I guess I should say, I try not to have a least favorite day of the week. 

But, Mondays are hard. 

We are all spoiled with Daddy time all weekend and we miss him most on Mondays. Everyone is just in a weird funk. Usually we keep our funky moods to ourselves, but this week we ventured out. 

We met our friends for lunch. 

It was mostly a nice lunch except that Max wanted to run freely around the restaurant, and Eli was all out of sorts and over tired. I have read exhaustively about how to help active/spirited kids in settings like a restaurant and I even came armed with a "mystery bag" of entertainment...big fail. Max threw a full on screaming tantrum, which I could barely even acknowledge because Eli was fussing too. That's what happens on Mondays, I tell you. 

Cupcakes and coffee were a plus, but Max dumping an entire bottle of water all over himself, our stroller, and baby Gap was not so fun.

We got home just in time for me to throw together a couple of lesson plans and switch kid duty with Julian.

I headed off to to my tutoring sessions feeling completely defeated. 

Spending an hour with a 1st and 3rd grader reminded me that eventually kids can sit still for a bit, even spirited boys. It made me smile to think about teaching Max how to write in cursive someday. My next hour was spent with a high school student, a boy with lots of school activities and a busy social life. I thought about how he is getting so close to leaving his parents house, and about how his Mom is going to miss him very much. 

I also had a salted caramel hot chocolate, another boost to my spirit. 

As I drove home I was already missing my boys, even with the Monday funk. 

Then I read this: Dear Mom on a hard day

And this: Ronan's Song

And the perspective just washed over me. 

I love Mondays. I love each and every day I get to mother these sweet boys.

Even our Mondays with the funky moods, the screaming tantrums, and a fussy baby.

It's a chance to grow closer to Max in parenting, as we work through setting boundaries and handling big emotions. It's a chance to hold and snuggle Eli a little bit longer, he clings on a little bit tighter and he won't always need me this much.

Sometimes my hands feel full, but I am holding two healthy and thriving little boys. 

An incredible blessing. 

These little boys who I hope to see grow up into men. Who will know how to write in cursive and do algebra, and maybe, just maybe, how to sit still :)