My flaws are neverending; the witching hour of each day highlighting the worst.
The guilt of those witching hours run through my mind, weighing heavily on my heart and stinging my eyes with unshed tears.
The words I shouldn't have said.
The tone I shouldn't have taken.
I shake my head, trying to let loose the unwanted memory.
I know better; I should do better.
They are just children after all. My children who have endless patience with me. Why can't I give them the same?
I am lucky to be called their mama.
Write a post in just eight lines. (inspired by Mommy Nani Boo Boo)
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