I picture her grabbing her many-time microwaved cup of coffee after laying her toddler and preschooler down for afternoon rest time.
Her mind flies to her list of things to do knowing the minutes of quiet are fleeting, knowing also that her strong-willed elementary kid will be home in a couple hours and homework and dinner and all the things will commence.
She thinks that maybe she should put in a load of laundry, but the smell greeting her as she opens the washer reminds her she did the same thing yesterday – then forgot to switch the load. She sighs and rewashes the load. Again.
She looks at her cluttered counter and sees the book she intended to read aloud to her kids gathering dust. She smiles as she remembers how her mom used to read books to her and wants to pass on the tradition, however, squirmy toushies make for a miserable reading time.
Her independent reader is also very independent-minded. But how to find the good quality stories in the midst of popular fluff… how to help her want the good stuff? Ugh.
She feels that somehow she got stuck on a version of motherhood that other people don’t seem to have. They’re all thriving and she’s barely surviving. How in the world is it possible to help your children grow emotionally, physically AND spiritually, all at the SAME time?! She has no idea.
So while the laundry hums, she picks up her phone and checks instagram. There’s that book, her daughter wanted to read! Hmm. I wonder what this person says about it…
She feels hope – just a bit – that maybe she’s not in this alone, after all.
The ages of the kids vary greatly, but this woman is who I imagine opening each post.
My audience.
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