Better.

Some nights, I tuck my cherubs into bed and take delight in their warm cheeks and sweet smiles, and I think about how lucky I am to be their mama.

Other nights, by 7:45, I'm tossing them into their respective beds with a pat on the head and running headlong to the kitchen for peace (or wine...or both).  

But last night.  Last night, I was fried from a long day that was less-than-stellar in pretty much every way imaginable.  I sent a very long, very whiny text to my girlfriends detailing my angst, recounting how I had spent time screaming into a towel (you know...to muffle the sound), and telling them that I wanted to run away.

Instead of telling me I needed to put on my big girl britches and move forward, they came alongside me and carried me back to sanity just by loving me.

As always, things tend to look better after a good cry and a good night's sleep, and this morning, I'm mostly just thankful for a community of women who aren't afraid to step into the muck and messiness with each other and just be.