I've been going to weekly physical therapy/torture sessions for an unresolved lower back injury, and since shifting gears to full time mom slave it's the only time I've been "off duty."
Last week I surprised myself when I teared up a little when saying bye to the girls and good luck to Drew for the brief 1.5 hours of my absence from the home front. "Why am I getting all emotional?" I thought. "I've kissed those chubby cheeks and dashed out the door in a rush to work for years. Why does leaving them for a quick appointment feel so hard now?"
Today, a week later, I felt the same tug at my heart. That tug is my perspective. It's my reminder of the reasons why I decided to stay home in first place. It's my reminder that this is where I want to be.
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