I finally did it. I left my three children — ages eight, six, and four — strapped into a minivan, at a ruralish post office with gigantic windows. The parking lot was nearly empty. All I had to do was walk in, hand the addressed, sealed, and prepaid package to the clerk, and walk out. I didn’t have to wait. I didn’t have to stand in line. I didn’t have to take my eyes off the freaking parking lot if I didn’t want to.
At first, everything was wonderful. But very slowly, his manipulative and controlling nature started to take over my life. And I was completely trapped.
scarymommy Truth. (via @saltymamas) If you need some book recs you def won't get to on this vacation, follow @scarymommybookclub.
FROM THE MOUTHS OF MOMS
Confessional #25839523 "I literally said "I have to poop", aloud, to myself, walking down the sidewalk. So now I'm the crazy lady mumbling inappropriate things to myself in public. Fab."
