When your toddler licks or gnaws the frosting off all the mini wheats cereal, then hands you the bowl. And you eat it, without skipping a beat.
When it’s Friday and you recognize that your kids will probably stay in their pajamas all weekend, provided they don’t have a fantastic food spill or heinous bodily fluid explosion. And you’re totally okay with that.
When your car has made That Sound for the last few months, but you haven’t taken it to The Guy for him to fix it, because you know it’s not life-threatening and it’s easier to just turn up NPR than to schedule a few days without a second vehicle.
When you see another presidential transition news update in your inbox and it makes you want to scream, which leads you to do the thing that always calms you down: you bake things. And if you don’t eat the entire pie in one sitting (or standing over the pie plate with a rubber spatula with the refrigerator door open), you call it a win.
When you realize that even if The Bar is lower than it used to be (or maybe even dragging in the mud), as long as there is said bar, you’re doing okay. We are all still doing okay.