The Power of a Good Enough Day
There was a time when I measured the success of a day by checkboxes—therapy goals met, meals eaten, behaviors managed, smiles captured on camera. A day was “good” if we did all the things. If nothing went wrong. If I felt in control.
But then came the days when we didn’t check any of the boxes. When progress looked like sitting on the floor and not screaming. When “lunch” was Goldfish crackers and apple slices—again. When I couldn’t tell if we were moving forward or just treading water. Those were the days that unraveled my old definitions of success.
And oddly, those were also the days that taught me the most.
Somewhere along this journey—both as a parent and a pediatric occupational therapist—I began to understand the quiet strength of what I now call the good enough day.
A good enough day is not Pinterest-worthy. It doesn’t have a curated schedule or perfectly regulated behavior. It might involve a meltdown, a frozen waffle, and more screen time than I’d like to admit.
But a good enough day also has presence. It has a moment of connection: a shared laugh, a deep breath, a hand held through the hard parts. It has resilience, even when things go sideways. It has small sparks of “we’re doing our best” and the grace to let that be enough.
We live in a culture that glorifies more. More therapy hours. More parenting strategies. More progress. But more isn’t always better—it’s just more. And for families like ours, chasing perfection can quickly become a fast track to burnout.
The truth is: good enough is powerful.
It’s sustainable. It leaves room for the child you actually have, not the one you imagined. It allows you, the parent, to be human. It gives everyone space to breathe, to repair, to rest—and to grow.
In my therapy sessions, I often remind families that regulation comes before participation. That safety and connection are the soil from which all learning grows. The same is true for us, as caregivers. We don’t need to master every moment. We just need to keep showing up.
So if today was messy and unpredictable, but you kept going?
If your child struggled, and you didn’t have all the answers, but you stayed present?
If you laughed once, or cried together, or just made it to bedtime?
That counts.
That matters.
That’s a good enough day.
And sometimes, that’s more than enough.