There once was a day when she felt a shift.
When she exhaled the grip in her soft belly and thought:
Enough is enough.
An end to the judgment, the constant berating.
The quiet voice inside that shouts:
You’re doing it wrong.
Do it that way. Be more like this. Don’t do that.
Can’t you be more like her?
There once was a day when she hugged her children tight.
Laughed in tandem at her dislike of craft projects.
Her cringe at their desire to ‘help’ bake. Flour strewn on the floor.
When they chuckled at her frowns over forts –
Her frustration over messy rooms.
Socks everywhere,
One always missing.
The laundry exploding from the basket.
Slime that never comes off the carpet –
Delightfully mashed in by careless little feet.
