Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

Finally, naptime.

What. A. Monday.

My kiddo was sick last week, so of course it ran through the house — fist-bumping my husband before coming at me with full vengeance.

My self-battery this morning is sitting at a flashing red 2%, while I’m being challenged by a tiny human running at 798% — rearranging furniture, doing acrobatics, and singing “The Wheels on the Bus” on repeat.

Finally, she drifts off. I pull out my laptop, pour a cup of anything warm I can find, and go for it…

knock knock knock

Cue two dogs shit-spiraling into full panic mode and sudden crocodile tears.

Thank you, Mr. Solar panel salesman. I am not interested, my kid is pissed, and I hope you step on a Lego.

Last night I had a strange dream that I wrote a book. I couldn’t tell you what it was about or how long it was. All I know is it had a purple cover with a cute cup of coffee on it.

People were asking me about the book, and I had no answers.

It felt like one of those dreams where you’re a professional athlete… but your legs are glued to the field.

Nothing. No words. Not even an awkward Ricky Bobby “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Still, here I am.

Sick. Tired. Reheating herbal tea for the third time. Writing anyway.

Because maybe the book isn’t finished yet.

Maybe it’s a manuscript full of red pen marks and highlights — pages made from blog posts stuck together — because when I started this blog, I never intended to publish anything. I just needed a hobby. A place to unload my thoughts. Something to help me become a better wife, a better parent, and a better version of myself.

My blogs won’t always have a clear purpose. Sometimes I share recipes. Sometimes I shout out the people I love. Sometimes I just need to unwind and unscramble the chaos in my head.

Somehow, after writing — even about nothing — I feel lighter.

Maybe it’s written in these moments: in the interruptions, in the tiny victories, in remembering to switch the towels to the dryer and empty the dishwasher.

And who knows… maybe one day there really will be a book with a purple cover and a cute cup of coffee on the front.

But in the meantime, I’ll keep trying.

I’ll keep holding down the fort.

I’ll keep showing up.

Even at 2%.

If there’s one thing motherhood teaches us, it’s this:

we keep showing up… even when we’re running on empty.

If you’re running on low battery today too, you’re not alone.

We’re all just reheating our cup of comfort and doing our best.

And if the purple book ever does get written,

I hope it includes instructions for surviving Mondays…

and a No Solicitors sign.