Dear Husband,
I want to take the time to tell you what I need as a stay-at-home mom. Yes, there’s more. More than the mortgage covered, and the minivan payment, and the food on our table and clothes on all five of our backs.
I know what you don’t need; you certainly could do without more to-dos and more pressure. You already carry the weight of the world on your shoulders; us four girls are a lot and then some.
But if you’ll only hear me out.
I need you to come home from work and take over. Like immediately. Pick up a baby; rescue our toddler from the TV. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet and I’ve been holding my pee for three hours. I need you to show our children love because I’ve been serving from an empty cup since 10 am; I’m actually talking back to a three-year-old. And as you can see she’s naked. Her butt has seen every surface in this house – no couch or carpet has been left unscathed – wrestle her into that pile of clothes I brought down this morning.