Tomorrow is another day.
Keep calm and carry on.
Remember how lucky you are.
The days are long but the years are short.
You only have them for eighteen summers.
What would Mary Poppins do?
There's always CBeebies.
There's always Sauvignon Blanc.
Every mum needs a mantra. This realisation struck me during this morning's two-hour screaming fest, at some point between having pear juice smeared all over my glasses and an unmentionable poo incident.
I've tried out lots of mantras over the past nine months. Some have been trite, some have been silly, but they have all managed to give me a sense of perspective during those dark, sleep-deprived or poo-splattered moments. I've never quite settled on one until today, though.
I was thinking that no matter how bad things might seem to be at any given moment, there will always a good story in it. I'm a writer, after all. I was thinking that in twenty years' time, Samuel and I will be sitting outside some sun-drenched Tuscan Villa, cracking open another beer and laughing, and I will say, 'You once projectile pooed into my hair. It was so funny!'
Everything's just a yarn.