“I don’t want to go home to him,” I sobbed to my mum.
Nope, I wasn’t referring to a friend who was grinding my gears, or even an ex desperate to make amends. I’d forgive you for thinking so.
Because what kind of mother in their right mind would admit they didn’t want to go home to their son?
Well, me. It’s not an easy confession to make. And certainly not one I make lightly.
But, whether we like to admit it or not, we all have moments when we wish we could take our mum hat off and bury our face in a pillow for an unspecified period of time.
Yep, being a mum makes my soul sing. But sometimes that tune falls flat. It’s harder than any parenting manual warned or well-meaning friend quipped when you announced you were expecting.
It tests you in a way no one could possibly prepare you for; emotionally, physically, spiritually, pushing you to your limits in every sense.