Like a Piece of Toilet Paper Stuck to My Shoe

Now I remember what I felt like back then. Back when I took my newborn and my toddler to Target alone for the first time. Both in the cart crying and needing something different. The baby wanting to be fed or changed and the toddler wanting a snack or to use the bathroom. Me hardly holding it together with my spit up stained shirt tucked into my under ware , my hair unbrushed and a piece of toilet paper hanging off my shoe. Goldfish crackers periodically hitting me in the face as I ward off stares of women wondering what I was doing to that baby to make it cry so hard. Tossing random items into the cart but forgetting the diapers and wipes so necessary to survive. Signing the credit card slip without even bothering to look at the total and walking with clenched teeth to the parking lot where it has started to pour big wet drops. Strapping the kids in and dumping the bags in the back. Making it to the drivers seat before the tears start to come. Looking in the mirror and hearing myself gasp. Then instead of more tears a few giggles come from somewhere deep down. I realize I am doing the best I can. I am being all I can be at this very moment. No one can ask for more.