Today is a Friday, and I am weary. There seems to be an endless demand for my attention. The piles of clean laundry are indistinguishable from the piles of dirty laundry. The toys take over any available floor space making simple tasks like walking difficult. The dishes spill over onto the counter. The children grab and scream and cry and scowl. And I try to hold on to the last bits of my sanity as we struggle through the day.
Parenting is hard. It requires more of me than I want to give. It requires sacrifice with lengthy delays on gratification. I get to the end of the week, and I am fatigued. I am weary and run down. I bite my tongue from modeling disrespect, refrain from doling out justice, and find the energy to say one more time, “Let’s try that again with respect.”