On Motherhood and Exhaustion

I don't know who was more tired at that point: me or her.
I don’t know who was more tired at that point: me or her.

Bedtime is the epic battle of every day. And just when you think you’ve won, when the rustling in the crib stills to naught, you remember the crapload of things you haven’t done and that you only have one hour left to do them all. You accomplish none of them. This is neither win nor lose, but the draw that is (my) motherhood.

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3 thoughts on “On Motherhood and Exhaustion

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