So what does a good day look like to you? Clark, my younger son, said to me, “Steve and I had a good day.” That hit me as odd because usually dealing with Steve is draining and demanding and I wouldn’t call the experience a good day, unless you want to consider a good day a day where you don’t get hit or have something thrown at you.
My response, “ Wow! That’s not something I’ve heard before.”
Then it got me thinking about the definition of a good day and how relative and situational a good day is. When my kids were both young, I considered it a good day if everyone had been fed a good meal. If I had managed to get one good meal cooked, it was a good day. If I managed to get both my boys to nap at the same time, I felt like Superman. But I honestly only remember the simultaneous napping happening a couple of times. I honestly think this may be at the root of why special needs parents are so exhausted — nap schedules can’t be counted on to work.
Recently while I was van camping alone, I found myself without any water in the freshwater tank. This made van camping extra difficult, and it took me a few days to get my rhythm going and getting water to wash dishes, wash clothes, and bathe. And then I had an idea — I needed a bucket. I purchased one at a hardware store. I could use the bucket to get water from a spigot that wasn’t too far away. I could take the water back and put some in the sink and boil some to rinse. I was able to wash the dishes. Then another trip, I could rinse out the dishtowels, and on the last trip I could get warm water for a sink bath. But each day after getting everything clean, including myself, I would think that was a good day. And I could settle in for the night with a sense of accomplishment and good book or TV series.
Back to Clark and Steve’s good day. I asked Clark what made the day good, and it was the attitude of Steve. They had played video games and backed cookies. Steve had even participated in the cookie prep by smashing the peanut butter with a fork before baking. Steve had participated in playing a video game and they both enjoyed the competition.
And most of my life, I have had an uphill struggle compared to those around me with typical kids. And even those I knew that had special needs kids, their kids were not moody and prone to outbursts. So in comparison, my days were not as easy, but I still would call days good. I know people looking in at my life sometimes say well-meaning things like I don’t know how you do it or one of my least favorites — God must have given you Steve because you are special (or some version of a condensing attitude to make sure they personally are never “rewarded” with a special needs child) But I have counted lots of days as good.
Some of my good days including making mashed potatoes for everyone every evening for a week, watching a movie with my typical son, taking myself for a walk, or spending 15 minutes decluttering. So simple but those little things make me able to put the day in the good category.
Today was a good day: I walked, I ate decently, I spent time with Steve. He did have one outburst and yelled at me. But he adjusted and moved on. Steve went to his afternoon class. I baked cookies. I curled my hair. I wrote.
I could make a list of the things that would make it a bad day, but for some reason, today, my mind is focusing on the good things and that is another reason, it is a good day.
We need much less than we think we need. ~Maya Angelou