I don’t know about in your home but this morning hit like a frying pan. The dogs were pacing, David was already at work and C was pretending he didn’t hear me calling his name. Breakfast was whatever I could grab — toast, a granola bar, maybe a leftover biscuit if the Bradley and Charlie didn’t inhale it last night. I held my coffee like it was the only thing keeping me upright and whispered, “Lord, it’s me again.”
This is a day in the Cates family where grace meets chaos and says, “We’re doing this together.” And honestly? That’s the only reason I made it out of bed. Because the circle is unbroken and yes, this is my circus and these are my Monkes and today I will keep them. Tomorrow is questionable.
Because here’s the truth: We can’t grow if we don’t bloom. And right now? I’m blooming crooked which happens more times than I can count, so today I’m sideways, and late — but I’m still blooming.
9 AM — The Great Ketchup/Ranch Crisis + Teen Moment
C opened the fridge like it personally offended him. “There’s nothing to eat.” There was EVERYTHING to eat — leftovers, Brownies, cheese, and his plate from last night — but he wanted ketchup or ranch. And LORD HELP US if we’re out. Or he wanted a QT energy drink. Or Griff’s Hamburger. Or Takki’s. Or all of the above. Since money doesn’t grow on trees none of that is happening.
Teen Moment: This is the hour where I remind myself that teens aren’t hungry — they’re dramatic. They want options, sauces, and a full buffet. And they want it NOW. And yes — this is also the hour where I gently check in on C’s mood, his tone, his energy. Not sharing details, just saying: parents, if your teen seems “off,” you’re not alone. We’re all walking that line between giving space and stepping in.
10 AM — Homeschool Tie‑In: Real Life Counts as a Lesson
While C was complaining about food, I realized today’s homeschool lesson for parents was happening right in front of me. Life skills count. Emotional regulation counts. Learning to communicate counts. Budgeting for QT drinks counts. And yes — learning that ranch does NOT magically appear in the fridge counts too.
Homeschool isn’t always worksheets. Sometimes it’s teaching your kid how to make a sandwich without a meltdown.
12 PM — Mile Marker Midday: Lunch, & Losing My Fitbit
By noon, the house shifted into full chaos. Hallmark Movies on. Dogs sleeping. C asking for food again. And me? I realized I hadn’t had water, hadn’t walked, and — of course — my Fitbit was missing AGAIN.
I swear that Fitbit has legs. It disappears more than C does when I ask him to take out the trash. I walked 3,000 steps just trying to find the thing that’s supposed to count my steps.
Motherhood is wild. And hydration? Optional, apparently.
2:30 PM — The Day Is Running Me Over + Easter Decorations Meltdown
Sonic still doesn’t have an affiliate plan (WHY, LORD) but they do have a Happy Hour and this saves the day more times than I can count, the house was half done thanks to Dav id, and Easter decorations were still in the box staring at me like I failed a seasonal exam. I opened the tote, saw the tangled garland, the missing eggs, the broken bunny, and said, “Not today, Satan.”
I shut the lid and walked away. Decorating is a tomorrow problem. Blooming doesn’t mean doing everything at once.
3:30 PM — My Garden Sucks, My Chair Is Calling, and My Gyroor CR‑5 Trike Is Judging Me
I stepped outside to breathe and looked at my garden. It’s pretty… but it still sucks. Weeds, half‑dead flowers, and one flower acting like it pays rent. It needs help, but honestly? My Mamazing Lullapod Max Nursery Recliner was calling my name louder than C ever could or should.
Meanwhile, my CR‑5 Trike hasn’t been ridden in days — maybe weeks — and both reviews are due. It’s sitting there like, “Ma’am… really?” But today? I chose the porch. Jesus, Jelly Roll energy, and Suzanne in my head saying, “Girl, breathe.”
Because blooming sometimes means stepping away before you break.
5 PM — Mom Called: Leftovers Save the Day
My mother-in-law Sherry called and said, “I’ve got leftovers. Good lunch for tomorrow. Come get it.” Yes ma’am. Southern moms don’t ask — they assign. And honestly? I’m grateful. One less meal to think about.
6 PM — Dollar Tree Snacks & Recipe Time
C wasn’t in the shower — he takes them whenever the spirit moves him. David was watching tv and warming up dinner, Gerald is laying on the couch the house owes him something. I was binge‑watching Paramount+, Friendly, or Up & Faith with Dollar Tree snacks.
Dollar Tree Moment: If you’re not buying snacks, storage containers, and seasonal décor from Dollar Tree, what are you doing with your life?
Recipe Moment: David was thinking about cooking a recipe he found online but didn’t save. Didn’t screenshot. Didn’t bookmark. Didn’t write down. He said tomorrow night he is cooking “from memory,” which means we’re all praying over dinner tomorrow because tonight is Granny Sherry’s Leftovers.
7 PM — TV With David Before He Falls Asleep
This is our hour. He’ll be asleep by 8. Then it’s my time. C is in his room yelling at his game. “Get out of my room, Mom, I don’t got nothing to say to you.”
Teenagers are wild. Marriage is wild. Life is wild. Blooming is wild.
10 PM — JR, Bless His Heart + Mile Marker Nightfall
JR is blind. But he does dishes. He helps get dinner out every morning. The dishes might not be clean. But he tries. And honestly? That counts more than perfection.
The house is finally quiet — or pretending to be. David is snoring. The dogs stole the blanket. C is “fine.” Bradley is probably still walking over here. God only knows.
We made it through another day. Not perfect. Not peaceful. But ours. And God was in every mile.
Because blooming isn’t about perfection — it’s about showing up, messy and tired, and trying again tomorrow.
Thank you,
Glenda, Charlie and David Cates
