Most days when I wake up early to go running and I’m tired and having a hard time resisting the urge to turn off the alarm and go back to bed, I ask myself, “Do I want to have a good day today, or do I want to sleep for 45 more minutes?” Usually that’s enough for me to get out of bed and out the door. But this morning when I asked myself this question, myself countered with, “Do I want to be a good mom today, or do I want to go for a run this morning?” I turned off the alarm and went back to bed, then ran Manchild to school in the jogger instead. Let’s hear it for 40 degrees and a weather shield.

The jury’s still out on whether the extra 2(!) hours of sleep this morning actually turned me into a better mom. But, on a slightly related note, yesterday when I came in the door from my morning run, Manchild broke down and cried when he didn’t see a box of rice crispies in my hand. (I have clearly not yet mastered the art of mindreading. Have you?) And this morning we had another near meltdown when I ate the vitamin Manchild had set out especially for Micah. Then, at school today, he just about lost it for no apparent reason and spent the last hour of school shut up tight like a clam. Methinks the boy was tired. It was probably for the best that just one of us was exhausted to the point of tears, and probably even better that it was him and not me.

But I can sympathize. There are days when Micah doesn’t come home with the pint of ice cream I’ve been dreaming about, and it just about breaks my heart, too.

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