I moved through the kitchen banging pots and slamming cupboards and when one of my children asked me something, the cork holding my anger inside popped and I spoke harshly in response to whatever they were asking.
It was a normal day in our house, as far as I can remember. These days normal is different than past days. I have a part-time job that keeps me occupied five hours a day outside of the house while my husband continues his full-time job three days a week. We’ve been doing this for a couple of months now and we are not always handling it well. I think what had gotten to me on this day was that I was in the midst of making dinner but all I could see with my eyes were the things that still needed to be done. Dirty dishes had piled up. The right kinds of clothes had not been washed. I was feeling overwhelmed and I could have saved myself the blow-up if only I had been willing to utter those three little words:
I need help.
Ben White via Unsplash
Read the rest of this post over at Putting on the New where I write on the 12th of each month.