Today doesn't feel much like WINNING

I try really hard to stay positive.
I try to be a cheerleader for our family and have great pride in taking care of the three of us.
But today, today was greater than I could give.
Since July, Jeremy is rarely home. 
His meal is waiting for him, covered in plastic wrap when he gets home.
But all of the things leading up to that plastic wrapped meal - and the hour afterwards. Are a lot.
I revel in motherhood and adore my son, but being a single parent is hard stuff.
Harder than I imagined.
Today Owen woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
He screamed all day. The most high pitched, annoying scream.
The kind of attention-drawing scream that grates at your nerves and tests your patience.
He screamed in my face through breakfast and threw his food on the floor.
He kicked and screamed through our errands - in Costco, in Target.
Stink bugs are invading our house again - so I needed to go to Lowe's to get bait for our trap.
Owen screamed and kicked in while I tried to talk to the lady about why it was sold out.
And then I drove across town to Home Depot.
I tried to feed Owen chicken nuggets in the car, but he wasn't hungry.
So he spit chewed up chicken, all over the car.
He nursed to sleep and napped for three (GLORIOUS) hours.
I prepped dinner, folded 3 loads of laundry, ate lunch and cleaned the toilet.
Much to my dismay he woke up in the same mood.
He ate a snack, we took a walk.
He screamed and kicked when I had to take him out of the stroller in Rite Aid.
He took off his shoes and socks and threw them on the pavement.
We came home and he tried to play with and eat a stink bug.
I grabbed it from him and rushed him off to wash his stinky hands and mouth.
I put him down to go grab the bug and flush it.
He decided to take a box of Arm&Hammer pet fresh and dump it all over the pantry and kitchen.
I put him in the high chair and he screamed while I swept and washed the floors.
I fed him dinner and put food for Jeremy and I in the oven.
Owen screamed in between every blessed bite of his dinner.
I washed the dishes and as I loaded the dishwasher, my hand got caught in the rack.
I pulled it out, Owen was yelling, my hand was covered in blood.
I bent over the sink and cried.
The screaming wore me down and the fucking dishwasher sent me over the edge.
At that moment I wished to God that Jeremy would come through the door and save the day.
That he would pour me a glass of wine, scoop up our fussy boy and put him to bed while I plated our dinner.
But, much like the last few months, that didn't happen.
I poured myself a glass of wine and held a papertowl on my bloody fingers.
Through my tears, chugged half the bottle.
I ate a piece of dark chocolate while Owen stared at his sobbing Mama.
Today I wasn't enough.
I put Owen to bed and took a shower.
I ate my cold dinner and I'm sitting on the couch alone at 9:55pm.
Jeremy's days are no better than mine and at least I have the sunny ones when I play with a smiling boy.
But that wasn't today.
I can take comfort in knowing that I'm not the only resident wife who struggles
But my back hurts, my ears are ringing, and my cold dinner and scraped up hand are not a welcomed ending to this horrible day.
Because I have a big job too.
I decide what we feed him. I decide how we discipline him and what his days will hold.
I make sure things are clean, bills are paid and our son is loved.
In writing this I'll have a record of our sacrifice.
By the end we will have given ten years of our life to medical training.
If he walked through the door tonight and told me he wanted to go back to being a teacher...
I gladly swallow $250,000 in debt and pack our bags.
But there's no going back now.
So I recite my mantra over and over again on days like this,
Make your expectations low, hold your love and respect for him high, and keep your eye on the prize. 
For me the prize is not the money of being a doctor - its having my husband back.
Its having a partner again.
Five more years is worth a lifetime of him, of us.

Today got the best of me, thankfully, there is always tomorrow.