These are the nights of parenthood that I have to die to myself the most, stick a fake smile on my face, and do what is best for the heart's of my kids.
I am tired. I am frustrated. I am tired of puking (yes I'm talking about vomiting again, don't you know that's all I do). All I want to do is take a bath, zone out to a show, and go to bed.
But tonight is the annual Harvest Party, that my kids have been counting down to for literally weeks. So I'm going to go load up on pain pills, reapply the eye makeup I've cried off today, stick a mint in my mouth to hide my vomit breath, a put a huge fake smile on my face, and drive us all down to the dang party, and pretend to have the best night of my entire life.
Why? Because tonight that is what being a good mommy means. Choosing my happy heart, and having self control: two things I talk to them about daily. If I can't do these two things, why should I expect them to?
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