To Wife of the Hardworking Husband With Busy Little Ones


I see you.

I see you with all the kids, trying to focus on the one performing in the concert, while keeping the siblings quiet and contained.

I see you in the grocery story, keeping the clan together, fighting the meltdown in aisle three and caving to the sugary cereal in aisle five just to keep the peace.

I see you navigating the checkout line, putting items on the conveyor belt and watching so additional items don’t get added or unpackaged while your back is turned.

I see you alone in church, shifting between kids and trying desperately to hear the sermon while keeping littles quiet so others can hear it, too.

Moms, I see you.

I see you early in the morning, pulling through the school drop off line and again mid-afternoon at pick up. And again, at soccer practice, dance practice, swimming lessons only to return to school for evening robotics.

I see you on the road, making the quick stop at the library drop off box, pausing at the ATM, and being ever so grateful for the pharmacy drive-thru.

I see the tired smiles of sleepless nights with a teething baby, the sag in your shoulders of the never-ending laundry beast, and the dry hands of repeatedly doing the dishes.

When you feel like you’re drowning under the weight of doing it all, when you feel like no one notices the little things that add up to everything, or when you feel your sacrifices are in vain:

Know that they are not.

You’re struggling. But I’ve seen you succeed. You’re muddling and then mastering it like a boss. You do all that you do because you’re Mom.

Keep on doing. You got this. And you’re killing it.