Back in the day (not long ago, and still sometimes), I would never have asked for help. Don't want to admit to even a moment of weakness or get emotional...pretty much ever. But Tuesday got me. It's been a mommy-motional week. Yep, I had a mini breakdown. Lets just say thank God my husband has the ability to work from home...
Jason left for work as usual. I made breakfast for Will. Nursed the baby. Pumped the leftovers. Then...it started...the whining, Mason crying and fighting sleep, the repetitive "I want ____'s" followed by a tantrum after every "no" response, the over full Pull-Up full of poop that skidded down Will's leg and all over the carpet, the barking dog, my stinking-not-showered-today arm pits and acne covered face... Nothing out of the ordinary, but I just couldn't take it. So, somehow, I allowed myself to pick up the phone and call my husband to ask him to come home before I locked the kids in their respective rooms for the remainder of the day. Now, I'm happy for my moment of weakness and my new ability to ask for a little help. It's funny now, but it wasn't on Tuesday. Jason got home. I got a shower and left the house to accomplish something from my checklist.
It felt good.
Thanks, Honey.
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