Broken Cookies

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Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

Tell me you’ve had this day before, please.

A cattle-prod pain deep in the tailbone pulls you from sleep. Your children and your alarm are clanging in the bedroom. But you’re stuck in a dream. You can’t open your eyes because you stayed awake until midnight when this position hurt, and this ached, and this was agony. The muscles you exercised yesterday are getting stronger but right now, they burn. Once you finally lay on your back, the thoughts moved in, the story ideas, the taunting characters.

So, you drag yourself out of bed and into the hot relief of the shower. When you emerge, your eldest is yelling at your youngest. The small one is sitting there, tears streaming down her face, in a tartan skirt with ruffles. Neither have had breakfast. There is no time for you to have breakfast. You run from bedroom to bathroom to lounge, finding the uniform, doing the hair.

You throw some things into their lunchboxes, listening to the wheeze of the little one’s breathing. It is like an accordion and you know you have to sort it out now. The smallest won’t eat anything portable, so you pack cereal into a plastic container. By this time, your heart is pumping with stress and exertion. You are really late.

You get to the car and your tyre is deflated, like that helium balloon from the fair that the children wanted to keep in their room for six months. Your hip is hurting so that driving is agony. At school, the principal and receptionist watch as you stumble in, gently herding the children through clenched teeth. You sit with the youngest while she eats her breakfast, painfully slowly. Then you say good bye and surreptitiously escape to wade blissfully into the largest cup of coffee in the world. And a cookie for breakfast.

The rich enticing smell of coffee in your nostrils, biscuit poised in mid-air, you realize something. It hits you like a slap to the face and you stop, mouth hanging open.

You realize that a friend recently learnt her eldest child had tumours. You realize that a mom in your network is carrying on the family without her husband. You realize that every day, people are learning of a crushing prognosis. And any chronic pain you suffer, any childhood illnesses, any behavioural issues, mechanic’s bills, sleep problems, parenting fails. Well, you realize those are all but crumbs.

I hope you’ve had a day like this before. It really puts things into perspective.

18 thoughts on “Broken Cookies”

  1. I have had those days, and they teach my thankfulness, when I remember that I am actually doing good. But, pain is hard to deal with. It demands all of our attention, refusing our need to focus on other things and other people. So don’t be hard on yourself. Regina

  2. Hi Kim, an dthank you for this great post in #blogcrush. I am always happy to have perspective adjustments, and that last paragraph sure does it. xoxo

  3. That last paragraph is not where I was expecting this post to go, but the U-turn really brings out the stark contrast between what we think of as “hardship” and what pain really is out there. Thank you for the wake-up call. #blogcrush

  4. Pingback: BlogCrush Week 69 - 8th June 2018 — Lucy At Home

  5. Beautifully written and utterly true. I try to live with this thought – This crappy day may be the last great day of your life. It seems like such a downer haha but it’s being grateful for days filled the ordinary hassles and not anything more tragic xx

  6. Lovely thoughts, thanks ☺ Its hard to be grateful some days though.

  7. So true sometimes we think our problems are the worst but then we realise that others have a heavier burden to carry. We need to sit and reflect and count our blessings and be grateful that we only have crumbs #blogcrush

  8. What a beautiful reminder 💕 I live those days, painfully often. My husband has Cystic Fibrosis and I often get swept up into everyday’s hustle and bustle those of us “normal” people deal with. I often forget what he has to deal with daily to stay healthy. Then I see him take countless pills and breathing treatments and I stop bitching about my problems.

  9. Sending good thoughts to you and your husband. There are many silent illnesses others can’t see.

  10. I’ve spent a lot of time on both sides of that perspective over the past year. This is a great reminder that many burdens are carried silently. You never know exactly what others are going through, but you do know that life is tough for everyone in different ways. #blogcrush

  11. So powerful, I’ve definitely had those days! I totally agree, it’s good to be reminded of what’s important and when everything is put everything into perspective we are much more grateful. This is great because it turns our self pity and inward focus into looking outwards and praise. #blogcrush

  12. Daydreamer mum

    I have certainly had a day or 2 like this , as you say though a bit of gratitude and perspective can sometimes ground you a little #blogcrush

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