Today broke me.

Sure, I'm grown, so I've had bad days before.

I've cried myself to sleep before, and even pushed my body to the absolute farthest corner of my bed as if to punish my husband who was sleeping soundly since his head hit the pillow.

I've slammed down a plate and stomped out of the room like a mature adult.

I've sobbed into a towel in the bathroom so no one would hear.

I've even (gasp!) complained about my kids to friends.

But today broke me.

Right there in the living room, surrounded by piles of laundry, kids throwing tantrums, and homework not being done, I lost it.

I tried to hide my hot tears as they raced down my cheeks but, on the way to my bedroom, my kids saw.

My daughter cried, too.

My son was confused.

My husband tried to give me space.

But today broke me.

It wasn't just that I am overwhelmed by work and grad school and homeschooling and marriage.

It wasn't only the fact that BOTH of my kids told me this morning that homeschool is, "booorrrring".

It wasn't simply the stacks of dirty dishes, mountains clean laundry, or the fact that I haven't showered in days.

But today broke me.

I don't know what happened, honestly.

No one rude comment, refusal to comply, or ignored opportunity to be kind pushed me over the edge of motherhood 'keep-it-together-ness'.

It wasn't that obvious.

But today broke me.

I hid in my bedroom, on that familiar far corner of the mattress and cried so hard that I had snot bubbles...something that might have made me laugh on any other day.

Everytime I started to slow my tears, something bubbled in my chest again and my body became overwhelmed and inconsolable as white hot uncontrollable emotion poured down my face.

My whole self felt overwhelmed--physically, spiritually, mentally.

Today broke me.

So, here I am now, showered and sipping Starbucks, reading my second chapter for a grad class in the silence of my car; my physical body completely empty of emption--numb.

I wish I had an answer--a catch-all bandaid to make the pain stop or the overwhelm to subside but I'm still broken.

I'm taped together enough to function and to feel my way through the rest of the day.

Moms always do that.

So today, if you see a mom struggling, don't throw her a side-eye.

Smile.

Buy her a coffee.

Tell her she's nailing it.

Because I don't know a lot of things, but I know that even moms been sometimes. And we could all use someone else's kindness to glue a little part of ourselves back together again.

For more hard truths for good moms who feel like they're blowing it, follow me or join my community!