I see you, your eyes exhausted when the baby wakes at 2 a.m., again. It’s going to be a three cups of coffee kind of day.
I see you, when you’re rushing in the morning, getting all of your babies fed, kissing your husband, packing lunches, checking backpacks, and trying to make yourself presentable for a day at the office.
I see you, helping your youngest find her lost shoe, rushing out the door just in time to get the kids to school.
I see you, holding back tears when the baby reaches toward the daycare provider and doesn’t seem to miss you when you leave.
I see you, working through your lunch break so you can leave early to watch your oldest play soccer.
I see you, asking your co-worker to switch shifts next Thursday because your daughter would be crushed if you missed her recital.
I see you, crying when the clock hits 5, because you can’t leave the office until this deadline is met. You’ll have to miss another activity, because you need this paycheck.
I see you, walking through the grocery store in your heels and sore feet after picking up the baby from daycare. You need to fill your cart with enough food to get you through the week. But when you get home, you know you’ll be too exhausted to cook, so you pick up a frozen pizza, too.
I see you, feeling guilty about eating pizza (again).
I see you, walking into your home after a long day at work, only to find yourself with hours of work ahead of you.
I see you, giving baths, helping with homework, reading stories and saying prayers, desperately trying to keep your eyes open.
I see you, looking at that pile of laundry wondering if you’ll ever get it folded or if it just makes more sense to keep it on your bedroom chair.
I see you, turning down dinner dates with the girls and volunteer opportunities at school and church because you don’t want to miss out on the few hours you have with your kids each night.
I see you, pouring yourself a glass of wine, stepping into a warm bath, just in time for the baby to start screaming again.
I see you, tossing and turning at night, wondering how you’re going to get it all done.
I see you, staying up too late even though you’re exhausted because it’s the only time you get to yourself.
I see you, hating your job, but staying in it because your family needs the money.
I see you, loving your job, because it helps put food on the table and money in the bank and it makes you feel like . . . you.
I see you, proud to be a working mom, but terrified to admit it, because of what the world may think.
I see you. I am you. I know your family is your life. I know you work for them. You are a wonderful mom and your kids think so, too. Don’t forget it.
You may also like:
Want more stories of love, family, and faith from the heart of every home, delivered straight to you? Sign up here!