It’s All About Love

“It was just another ordinary afternoon. We were all in the van and Mom was mad.”

By: Elizabeth Foss

You’ve got to be kidding!" I protested hotly. "How could this possibly be all about me?"

I was sitting, planner flung open wide, across from my husband. I was showing him how incredibly busy my life had become in the past few weeks—all the appointments for all the children. There were twenty dental visits in September alone (literally). There was enough driving to ballet and soccer to put four hundred miles a week on the van. Then there were the mundane things like grocery shopping and gardening and house cleaning.

I was tired and cranky and I didn’t appreciate him telling me that it was “all about me.” I was doing it all for them. Nowhere on those neat grids was a mom’s night out, morning alone at the gym, or even time to write. What in the world could he possibly mean? Wisely, he put the point aside and let me stew a bit.

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