Today was a hard day. It was non-stop, running around trying to recover from multiple tornados. I felt like the rug was pulled out from under me without warning, the wind knocked out of me. One triumph was catching a dresser just before it would've landed on top of my baby. He's only one, but the busiest, most curious and insanely smart little boy I know. He climbs everything, runs at full speed into things, falls too many times to count and thinks it is the greatest thing in the world to deliberately do the opposite of what I'm saying. It's terrifying, messy and smells of horribly dirty diapers; but, at the end of the day, one tiny glance from him puts my heart at ease. I just need a little mental break, a full night's sleep and to remind myself I'm doing the very best that I can. I'm succeeding. My little boy loves me and I do everything in my power to keep him safe. We're doing alright. Even if our house is a disaster area and I'm utterly exhausted. In every cell in my body.