tired mom

‘I don’t remember the last time I held you. There was no parade, no photo to commemorate it. Just one day I held you, and it was the last time.’: Mom urges ‘soak each moment in’

“Tonight, you asked to lay on top of my stomach like when you were a baby. I of course said yes. But we fumbled around for too long, both trying to get comfortable, until we realized it just wasn’t going to happen. One day I held you, and it seemed there was no end in sight for this pure bliss. Then, one day, it was the last time.”

Sometimes, I Don’t Want To Be The Mom

“Sometimes, I don’t want to worry about the drinks and the snacks and the sunscreen and the chairs and ‘Did you go potty?’ or ‘Make sure you bring a jacket!’ Sometimes I don’t want to make dinner. Again. Or load the dishes. Again. Sometimes, I’m not ‘cherishing every moment.’ I’m surviving.”

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