I feel like the world is our oyster and we are going to conquer it in tiny little Charlotte steps. And I get in the car and I take her to therapy and I beam as I watch her interact with her peers and try new things in PT. We leave school and I am ready to feed her a healthy lunch put her down for a fantastic nap and spend some quality time with Max. These are the days where the nap goes well and she wakes up ready to roll, which is good because we probably have another therapist coming over or we are out the door for another appointment.
Neal comes home, makes a great dinner, the kids are happy and we enjoy our kids for who they are at that exact moment. We enjoy Charlotte's contagious laughter and Max's speeches to anyone who will listen (understanding is optional, and frankly impossible.) We put our sweet babies to bed, sing, pray, cuddle and lay them down to quickly fall asleep. I lie in my bed and I think "wow, what a great day! This special needs thing is easy and I am super mom and Lottie can take her sweet time, she is so perfect."
Then.......
I do it, I flip open Facebook and I am assaulted by adorable 2 year olds that are playing with toy vacuums and riding their new tricycles. I see videos of Charlotte's peers singing Christmas carols and wishing me a happy new year. And the mood drops
drops
drops........
I am in a different place now. No more unicorns and butterflies and rain drops on roses. I'm in a dark room with smudgy windows and the feeling of doubt in myself, doubt in Lottie's brain, even doubt in my God. It is like a wall closing in on me. Suddenly everything seems different.
Did we really have a good day? I woke up 15 minutes late, 15 minutes of time I could have had to play with Charlotte and Max and assure them that I love them. The drive to school wasn't enjoyable because Max was screaming and I forgot Lottie's backpack.
And now I'm remembering how I was trying to talk to my friend and Max continued his tantrum inside the school. And at the end of the day, pdid her teacher mention that she needed a swallow study?
Her nap was good but really her lunch could have been a bit healthier and I probably should have chosen water over juice. The therapist was here, working hard with Lottie, but was I present? Was I retaining this information? I'm pretty sure I wasn't and that when I do this activity with Lottie later I will totally mess it up and probably make it harder for Lottie to learn.
Neal came home, he cooked dinner, he always cooks dinner. He always makes sure the kids have full tummies and all the really important healthy groups. Was I helpful or was I playing Yahtzee? What about those last few moments before bedtime, I should have put her in the stander or read a few more books. Why didn't I make that sensory board today and call that new specialist?
Yes, the kids are in bed and I am wide awake feeling anything but a supermom. I feel like a failure. I pray to God to forgive me for my selfishness and then I squeeze in some desperate prayers for life to be more normal and for Lottie to improve, then I sort of do a take back and ask God to forgive me for not being content and trusting his plan.
I lie in bed in that metaphorical tiny dark room with doubt papered all over the wall. But tonight I choose to look through that smudgy window. I dare myself to believe that there is life on the other side, that tomorrow I can wake up feeling like supermom again and maybe be content in what I can do or possibly rearrange things to make the day more beneficial. That smudgy window tries to hide a lot but it does not hide the brightness that are my children.
It can't hide Charlotte standing on the trampoline for the first time today. 
It can't hide her infectious laugh and giggle. 
It can not hide her brushing her teeth on her own
It can't hide the friendships she is making at school
It can't hide the love she shares with her family. 
And most importantly it can't hide that God knows the plans he has for her. Plans to prosper her and not harm her, plans to give her hope and a future!! (Jeremiah 29:11)
When I view it through that lense, the mix between the smudgy windows and the raindrops on roses seems to be ok, maybe we can't see all the intricate details of the raindrop or the rose just yet but actually I think it's better. We have an original view. A view that will make that drop of rain even sweeter someday.
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