“I am not even going to lie to y’all.
Right now, I am dog tired.
If one more kid gets out of bed for so much as a SNIFF of water, I’m going to pull my freakin hair out. That child might end up on the front porch wearing a ‘for sale’ sign.
I just can’t anymore.
You see, last night my car was stolen, along with my purse and my entire life. Then, this morning I talked with my doctor about some pretty scary reconstruction surgeries.
I guess wanted to pretend I was done with breast cancer, but my post mastectomy chest has been glaring back at me lately, begging for a second phase of reconstruction. Breast cancer isn’t quite done with me.
But trying to manage my life today without a vehicle or a purse or a single dollar bill just didn’t work. It turns out you pretty much need all of those things to function.
By the time my kids came home from school, I was overwhelmed, frustrated, and ready to crack.
I was chicken fried steak, burnt to a crisp.
So naturally, they decided to walk through the front door and immediately fight over sitting in my lap, crying when their sibling got ‘more of mama’s leg than the other one got’.
I love my babies, but I wasn’t up for a territorial war over my thighs. My cup was empty to start with. I didn’t want to negotiate which side of my body belonged to which child.
I needed space. I needed something to belong to ME.
Like. I dunno. MY BODY?
I was TOAST. But I had to keep going.
Sometimes I feel Stretch Armstrong. Like I’m supposed to have this superhuman ability to keep stretching and stretching and stretching….
Oh, you know what, y’all? I have a secret to tell you.
When I was a kid, I broke my Stretch Armstrong. Turns out, even superhuman gel-filled people have their stretchy limits.
And mamas do, too.
No matter how much you love your family, you are going to lose your patience.
No matter how badly you want to pour into their lives, sometimes your cup will be empty.
It doesn’t matter if you are the best mom ever. At some point, you will have a day that ends with yelling and tears and canceling a birthday.
And I’m not saying it’s okay, because it stinks. We all want to do better for our families.
All I’m saying is that IT HAPPENS.
We run out of grace. We lose our cool. We streeeeetch until and we suddenly snap. And any mama that tells you otherwise is a liar liar pants on fire.
My kids are both asleep now, but here I am, remembering the 800 absurd threats it took to finally get them down.
Holland can’t wear her Tiana dress till she’s like 16 or something, and Ben can’t watch that weird YouTube guy who dives for garbage in lakes for the rest of his life.
They both cried.
Okay. So, did I.
But you know what?
Tomorrow is a new day. My kids will wake up giggling and full of energy, and once again ready to war over my attentions.
And I’ll chug my coffee and plead with the Lord to help me. I’ll give it another shot, and this time, maybe I won’t screw it up (so bad).
All of this to say, if you think you really blew it as a human being this week, well…you weren’t alone.
These things happen. We stretch, we stretch
We streeeeeetch.
…and we break.
But remember this: morning does come.
And with the morning: hot coffee, tiny giggles, and the chance to refuel your heart and be a better this go around.
Oh, lord, am I thankful for that grace tonight.
No matter what failures you are mulling over in your brain tonight, I want you to remember this, my friends:
Tomorrow is a chance at better day.
Tomorrow brings grace with sunshine.
Tomorrow is hot coffee and new beginnings.
Claim it, friends.
I’m sure as hell going to.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Mary Katherine Backstrom. Mary’s book Mom Babble: The Messy Truth about Motherhood is available here. Follow Mary on Instagram here. Submit your story here, and be sure to subscribe to our best love stories here.
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