It got colder. I’m still trying to figure out the fastest commute. I forgot to take a snack with me for mid-morning.I felt like I was getting sick again. Again.

I got home and found a husband holding a rather upset baby who was bleeding from her toe. I gave her a bath to try and stop the bleeding and calm her down, which worked – until she try to run away from the towel and slipped. Flat on her back, on the floor, screaming. She was fine and soon found something else to cry about.

And the day just wasn’t fun.

But all I could think, besides ‘this sucks,’ was: ‘It’s just one day.’

Tomorrow I have another chance.

She’ll wake up in a good mood, we’ll have a nice breakfast, I’ve got a list of interesting things to get done at work, I got some exercise that will make me feel better, the outlook is good.

It’s strange for me to feel this way. It’s new. It’s optimistic.

It’s a baby thing.

Every time there’s something hard, there’s something good. Every time she cries, there will be laughter. For every rough night, there’s her smiling face in the morning and all is beautiful again.

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