Dishes done, dinner in the crock-pot, toddler’s toys put away, preschooler’s Picasso-inspired crayon drawing on the wall magically erased, the cemented Goldfish and water paste removed from the couch, baby nursed a million and five times, and the house finally looks the way it did when my husband left this morning!! Yup, I was one of “those” stay-at-home moms, I aspired to be a Supermom and if I fell short I wouldn’t settle for anything less than June Cleaver. So you can imagine how crushed I was after killing myself day in and day out juggling a newborn, 3-year-old, & four year old while maintaining a household only to see a look of disappointment on my husband’s face when he got home. Naturally, after a few weeks of this, it weighed heavy on me and I did what any “June” would do and kindly approached my husband, inquiring why he was disappointed, and we had a remarkable adult conversation, NOT! My exhausted foggy mom brain was spinning and somewhere between my mind and mouth kindness, compassion, and even comprehension were lost…what spewed out was ugly, loud, hurtfulness.
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Mom on the go in Holy Toledo 