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Yesterday we began the final day of our Rock Your Bliss retreat with designing our ideal “regular” day. Mine included enough sleep, a deep meditation and some coffee shop time amongst a bunch of other good stuff. I landed at home at midnight last night, got about four or five hours of sleep and basically kissed and high fived my husband as he left for a week away for work. I quickly discovered Baby A wouldn’t be heading to daycare because of a diaper rash situation and started to scramble to figure out my work day. I left my best friend a voicemail laughing “Today is a lot of things but not my ideal day.”

I’m tired and look like I’ve aged a couple of years but I was so lucky to share my morning latte next to Baby A as he ran around the coffee shop and I showed him that the sidewalk cigarette butts are not something we want to pick up. I made it to Venice for my private because my friend of almost a decade(!) Rachelle saved the day and took Baby A on an adventure. We have listened to music, watched Farmees and may even curl up together for a nap. (Please God. Slightly pleading.)

Every once in awhile that ideal day happens and then so does a seriously shitshow of a day and it’s perfect. A big, messy, covered in graham crackers and milk, need-a-nap kinda day. Perfect.