I’m hiding in plain sight right now.
Because, let’s be real, in a house with three young kids, I’ve got nowhere to hide.
And, even if I did, they’d find me like the adorably, exhausting, stage-5 clingers that they are.
I love them.
I love them with my whole heart.
BUT, for two minutes I don’t want anyone to ask me for
something to eat,
another something to eat, drink, and snack on because they neeeeeeed more,
help getting dressed,
help with schoolwork,
help with the tv,
help finding a toy,
or helping cleaning up a mess they had no trouble making all by themself.
If it sounds like I’m complaining, it’s ‘cause I am.
I’m tired y’all.
And so I’m hiding, for as long as I can, at my eat-in kitchen table while I scarf down a block of cheese.
Ain’t no energy or desire to fib about how easy all this is for me, as I suspect (and kinda hope) some of you are hiding right now too as you read this.
Eat on mama, then rejoin those babies of yours and ride that cheese/chocolate/chip/soda high for as long as you can.
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