Motherhood is weird.

Here I am sitting in a parking lot, eating my chickfila in peace, and I’m sad because of these pickles.

I’m sad because I normally give them to my son. He’s the pickle eater and always gets the ones from my chicken sandwich. I used to order the sandwich without pickles, but ever since he came along I stopped doing that and just gave the pickles to him.

I deserve this meal. I’ve been home with children for MONTHS and a meal alone in a mall parking lot is exactly what I need to keep my head from detaching from my body.

But I open my sandwich to find these dang pickles.

I feel guilty that I’m not home doing dinner and baths with the kids. I feel guilty that I need a chance to breathe. I wanted this life and these kids (granted I didn’t want a pandemic, but it is what it is) and I feel guilty that sometimes I just need a BREAK.

So here I am, sitting in my car wasting my kid free time being sad over pickles. Because that’s part of what being a mom is apparently.

Motherhood is weird.

But I’m glad I know I’ll always have a boy out there to eat my pickles (and drive me a little crazy).

This post originally appeared on Facebook.