Photo Submitted by Rean Long

Today I wanted to "tap out" of motherhood for a bit.

I'm ashamed to admit that out loud as it sounds pretty terrible, but I'll be honest, it's the truth.

Today I felt like, "I don't have this anymore. I'm not built for this. I can't do this...I'm DONE."

I felt bad for myself through some pretty wicked exhaustion. I'm done with sickness. I'm done with hospitals. I'm done with this stress of the last few weeks.

But it's not just that...

I'm done with talking until I'm blue in the face, and no one listening.

I'm done stepping over the same jacket or toy or shoe that no matter how many times I wait or ask someone to pick it up, it still remains there or gets shuffled around to a different spot that it doesn't belong in.

I'm not even going to touch on the dishes or laundry because even me thinking about it, I feel like it's such a broken record, I'm sick of "hearing" myself talk or even think about that dose of crazy.

I'm done with cleaning messes to just be recreated. I'm done with putting clothes away for them to be strewn about minutes later. I'm done with feeling like a hamster on a wheel that is ready to break.

"I'm done," I told myself today, as now my body is starting to become sick and run down.

I wish I had access to call my mother up to come over to help and make it all better and give me a hand, but I can't. Oh, how badly I wish I did.

I wish I had the magic pill to make everyone better and put the other half of my family in a bubble to keep them safe, but unfortunately I haven't found that medicine yet.

I wish I could duplicate myself so I didn't feel like I just got to the point of nothing left, less than empty, but I did...again.

Today I yelled when I found the strength to.

Today I lost my patience and probably could have won the worst mother of the year award.

Today I let negativity and exhaustion and sickness win.

But tonight as I held my baby, she knew, she knew all of it...she felt it and saw it and experienced my day with me, all day, every painful hour.

But then with one sentence, she healed me and reminded me how wrong I was.

She looked at me and with such sincerity and such love, took her tiny hand and rubbed my cheek.

"I make you happy, Mama."

She didn't ask me this, she told me this. She point blank told me that she made me happy, such affirmation and certainty, "I make you happy, Mama."

I must have kissed her precious hands and cheeks over and over that it just may have put her to sleep.

It's incredible how those 5 tiny words reminded me that maybe I can hang tough after all, and I just needed a 2 year old to remind me.

When we think we're done and there's nothing left, something or someone refuels us when we least expect it. That's The Real Deal of Parenting, my Friends: THAT is how we wake up for one more day.