This is one of my most commented on, most appreciated posts. It’s also a doozy, at nearly 2000 words. But definitely worth the read. At least, I hope so!
I’m guilty of it.
I’m out and about in town, trying to accomplish my grocery shopping and in my own world.
And then I see it.
Or worse, I hear it from several aisles over: a parent caught in the midst of their child’s meltdown. A parent trying helplessly to control that which is sometimes uncontrollable: their own children.
You’d think that as a mother I would always be quick to show sympathy and courtesy to a fellow mentally drained parent. Because I should get it. I have walked in their exhausted, frustrated shoes. I have cried after a trip to the grocery store and vowed, “never again!”
But I’m just as guilty as the next person. I judge. I glance sideways. Even worse, sometimes I try not to look at all.
Because it’s hard not to look, right? That’s like trying not to stare at a three-headed person or Miley Cyrus. There’s…
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