"I'm drowning!"Mary told herself. She looked around her house that looked like a tornado had gone through it. For the life of her, Mary couldn't get her kids to take their schoolwork to their rooms or put their dishes in the dishwasher or do much of anything they didn't want to do. It made her feel defeated, and she felt frumpy when she walked past a mirror. None of her clothes fit right and many were stained. New clothes were never in the budget or on her radar-except for days like today where she jumped all over herself for every little thing she could pick apart.
"I can't do anything right! It makes it worse when I see someone like Liza who is always so put together. When I'm at her house, nothing is out of place. Everything there looks perfect, which must mean it's me. Something is wrong with me."
After Mary's temper tantrum was over, she opened the laundry room door and stepped out. Her daughter, Samantha, came up to her and frowned. "Are you OK, Mom? You look upset?"
Mary smiled a chastened smile. She hugged her daughter and said, "I'm good now. How did I get so lucky to have a sweet child like you?"
Samantha looked at her, confused. "You made me this way!"