No one told me about mom rage.
It just showed up one morning full force. I woke up before the babies so I could do the things I cannot do when they are awake— like drink hot coffee, pee alone, and write.
They have a sixth sense, though. They feel my desire to feed my soul, and they want some of the food for themselves. They are adorable, but they are greedy little girls.
They stand between who I am and who I once was. I want so badly to visit with the woman who used to read, write, and create, but I can’t. So I rage—sometimes only on the inside, but often on the outside too.
Get out of my way, little ones.
Just for a bit. Just before the sun rises.
If you wait until the sun wakes up, I’ll be ready without the rage.