Some Days Are Like That

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Lying on the hammock on our bedroom balcony, I stared out at this view, as if in a trance. I snapped out of it with just enough time to snap a photo of it before the vibrant colors dissipated; and just long enough to be reminded of the splitting headache I was enduring. My son was in the bath and my daughter was finishing up her homework. Bedtime was soon, and couldn’t come soon enough.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” by Judith Viorst. I assume I liked it because I had my share of bad days back then and it must have provided me some much needed comfort amidst the drama and dysfunction of my home life. The book showed that life could be hard sometimes, and not only was that normal, but it was perfectly okay. What a relief... a sort of permission slip to be imperfect.

When I had my first child, I remembered this book and my affinity for it; so I bought a copy for our nursery library. My son chooses it every once in a while for me to read to him at bedtime, and every time I revisit the story, I feel a kinship with the main character. Alexander wanted to escape to Australia because he thought life would be better there, not rife with the challenges he was facing that day. At the end of the book, the lesson conveyed is that even people in Australia have bad days sometimes (and therefore, no one can escape them, nor escape their problems). Everyone, everywhere has them, no matter who or where they are, and that is okay.

Today was one of those days. I have been having quite a few of them lately. I am working, and doing, and becoming so much to grow and thrive as a mother, writer, woman, human... yet it has been challenging at times to tap into the positive and find the hope amidst the climate of our world and of my personal reality. And so the book reminds me: “Some days are like that. Even in Australia.”


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