“I am doing the best I can,” I said to my husband as I felt a tear hit my cheek.

It was one of those nights. I was in pajamas by 4 p.m., my hair had some questionable things in it, and I had on a stained sweater that probably should have been washed a few days ago.

My husband came home and walked in on me in pajamas, cooking soup with grilled cheese (that I burned for the third time this week), and my hair looking like a bird was living in it.

He walked in on me getting upset at my 4-year-old. Probably for something small, but to me, it felt massive.

I felt like I had failed as a wife and a mother.

I haven’t been making home-cooked yummy meals lately.

I haven’t done my makeup in a long time.

My hairstyle now resembles a bird’s nest.

I am not patient with my children. I yell more than I would like to. I just thought I would be better at this whole mom and wife thing.

As I turned to look at the grilled cheese, I noticed I had burned it (my kids’ definition of burned, they’re very picky about their grilled cheese), while talking to my husband.

I threw my hands up in the air and said, “I give up!”

I put the burned grilled cheese on a plate, placed it on to the sticky kitchen table, and told the kids to eat.

They ate without complaining as I sat there in my pajamas, stained sweater, messy bun, and my failed dinner.

I sat there and watched them, as guilt washed over me like a wave.

I feel like I need to do more, all of the time. But the truth is, I am doing my best.

Next time you see your wife, the mother of your kids, looking like a complete mess, exhausted, and crying over burned grilled cheese, be kind to her.

She is doing her absolute best.

Originally published on Caitlin Fladager


Caitlin Fladager

I’m a 25 year old mom to two amazing kids. I’m married to my high school sweetheart. I got pregnant when I was 18, and married when I was 20. I started early on most things in life, but I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I’m an advocate for mental health and self love.