Yellow Day

Today I forgot yellow day.

Before we arrived at school I’d been so proud of my daughter’s navy blue dress because she’d picked it out and put it on herself. Yet now it looked all wrong, another sign of something I’d forgotten.

Like the masks I’d forgotten to wash for the big kids. The turkey I’d forgotten to buy for lunches. It was only 9am and already it had been a morning.

Yet I wasn’t alone. Interspersed among the yellow were other panic-stricken moms. Moms with busy jobs and multiple kids and brand-new babies. Moms who’d also done their best juggling. And that’s when I thought all I HAD done. Packed three (turkey-less) lunches, two snacks and five water bottles. Made three breakfasts. Gotten three happy kids out the door.

As my list grew, the panic faded. And when her teacher pointed to the tiny yellow flowers on her dress, I mouthed a silent thank you, once again calm.

Her teacher smiled. “Don’t worry. We always find something,” she said.

As I walked away, I smiled too. Even when we get it wrong, there’s always something we’re getting right.