It was a particularly hard week. I was drained. I had been running empty for weeks. There was yelling. Cursing. Tears. David had had enough. He was blunt and to the point. "You're not acting like a good very mom when you treat them that way. They didn't ask to be your kid." He was right and he knew it. What he didn't know is I how I wept on my lunch break and poured out my heart to my children in a letter they would never read. They are too young to understand the truth about their mother.
