When I first started out, I swore it would never happen to me. I consoled moms in my homeschooling circle of friends who were enduring that season, and I nodded my head and smiled, but never fully understood their pain. I listened intently, tucking away their shared wisdom for future days that I was sure would never come.
They came hard.
It was not a depression, it was the hitting of a wall and not knowing how to scale it. There is so much that is orchestrated by me as a mother, that when I threw in a couple of sides of me as a teacher, the weight of the tray was not always balanced. I succumbed to my family enduring sub par meals, the television being turned on some afternoons, and the floor not always being vacuumed.
This season has taught me to sit on the floor and play. Just play. I’ve learned to observe and not to teach. I’ve learned to just kept swimming, for like all seasons, this one does pass, and I have come through with my own wisdom to share with the next mom who will just nod and smile.