It’s felt like a bit of a rough road lately, with nothing letting up and zero chance of catching a break.

Major computer issues all summer long.

Summer transitions into fall. The desktop computer is taken care of, and a new glorious machine is in place. You’d think we could move on from talking about tech shenanigans.

But now, getting the old laptop back in fighting shape has become a technology headache… Sent it off to get cleaned up, and it mysteriously picked up a bizarre new habit of jumping the cursor around wherever it wanted to on the page. Arbitrarily. Every 20 seconds.

Have you ever tried to write an email when the cursor doesn’t behave?

Only try it if you want to give yourself a migraine. Needless to say, working with code on that machine is outta the question right now.

So the laptop is back in the shop. And because all technology hates me lately, the top rear endon on my phone doesn’t want to work anymore.

It’s not a tragedy. But it’s one more thing.

Ugh.

Work itself has felt difficult this month as well – a whole lot of projects, not enough time. Long 14 hour work days. Being asked to gogogogogogogo constantly. No lunch breaks. An email that questioned my integrity.

Ouch.

The cherry on top of the stressy projects and computer problems has been Phil’s raging toddlerness.

His constant fight to be self sufficient while at the same time needing me for everything… At the same time that everything else is going on… Has at times felt like more than one work at home muhmuh can handle.

Oh and because things aren’t quite difficult enough… Phil’s also potty training. Sometimes willingly, sometimes less so. I can’t blame him – by the end of the day, I’d be tired of being hrearled to get on the potty chair every 30 minutes, too.

This isn’t the brightest, happiest post I’ve written.

But then, this past few months has been pretty ridiculous, and has shown no sign of letting up.

Then this morning, as I rushed through our morning routine: feed the dog, eat breakfast, clean up the kitchen, brush teeth, put laundry away… as I was shoving dishes into the dishwasher as fast as I could, I heard running down the hall.

The distinctive sound of the stepstool scraping along the floor toward the light switch.

The sound of my little boy getting on the potty chair all by himself, without being reminded.

This morning, Phil pooped on the potty chair. All. By. Himself.

I promise I won’t be one of those mothers that instagrams her kid’s poop.

I promise, I promise, I promise.

But the thought did cross my mind.

Moral of the story? Hang in there, baby.

Because eventually, the storm breaks, and the sun starts to shine through again.

Fistpump.