"I could feel hot, salty tears coming down my face. I sat and cried silently... I was scrunching myself up against the wall as far as I could. All of a sudden, someone from behind us taps on the guy’s shoulder..."
"Friends, this is a painful truth, a call for help, a wide-eyed end-of-my-rope shouting from my darkest and most cob-webby places that I can't do it anymore."
Yeah, yeah, we know. Sleepless nights, whether they’re two months old or twenty-one, and whatnot. But it’s not just the snotty noses wiped on your shirt or the mounds of laundry that multiply prior to folding.
"I promise you that there is not a SINGLE one of your yoga doing, Pinterest worthy birthday party throwing, organic snack feeding, no dark circles under their eyes Mamas that have it together ALL the time."
One mom in the United Kingdom says she as the solution to the mental load that accompanies buying birthday gifts for kids, but not everyone agrees with her.
This time of year is hard for you, I know. I was a single mom for almost five years. My sister was for seven. And my mother has been a single mom for almost the entirety of her four children’s lives.
Here they were. Brown boots, fuzzy on the inside, worn ragged but sturdy as fresh leather, covered in dog hair and the permanent crumbs of family life.
I had zero expectations for the Barbie movie, and therefore, my expectations were wildly exceeded. But the parts I truly did not see coming that wrenched my heart in two were centered on motherhood, of all things.
