I’ve been struggling lately, with the simple fact that I cannot get a minute of time to myself. I can’t even do a load of laundry without everyone losing the plot two seconds after I dare to go downstairs. Everyone can be playing nicely together and the second I disappear, they sense I am gone and stand at the top of the stairs screaming for me. I never understood why mothers complained about not being able to use the bathroom alone, but alas, I now do. I open the door to tiny faces staring at me with tears, like I just left the country for sixty years. But alas.
The struggle is real. And lately, I will admit, I have not been finding joy, in being a mother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys to the ends of the world. I would do anything for them and would not trade being their mama for ANYTHING. But the joy that is supposed to be found while being a mom? Yea. Hasn’t been happening. I’ve been grumpy. Short. Snappy. Struggling. I go to bed praying, begging for forgiveness.
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Tangled Thoughts 