She tends to feel anxious in those couple of moments before you walk through the door.
Hurrying to straighten a few things and fix her hair in the mirror, she knows you won’t be mad—to the contrary, you’ve never said an unkind word about it.
But she can’t help but feel like she’s about to let you down.
Let you down because the trash is overflowing.
Let you down because dinner came from a box again.
Let you down because the dishes are still piled as high as they were when you’d left for work that morning.
Let you down because the living room is buried under toys.
Let you down because she still hasn’t showered for the day.
And she hates to think you’ll be disappointed.
But in the depths of her heart, as you step wearily from the car and slowly make your way inside, she’s hopeful instead that you’ll understand.
Understand that she took them for a walk around the neighborhood.
Understand that the living room was clean at one time.
Understand that she finished all of the laundry.
Understand that the kids were given baths.
Understand that someone wanted to be held.
Understand that she loved on them and gave motherhood everything she had.
And she’s hopeful you recognize that even though a day is productive, the house will not always reflect it.
And she just never wants you to be disappointed.
Because she loves you with everything she has, too.