That’s me, juggling a newborn and a two-year-old and trying to take a selfie.

Whether you leave the house daily to go to work or you’re home everyday caring for your children, WE ARE ALL WORKING MOMS. 

And the work is never done.

That said, today the award will go to stay at home heroes. Because this is some kinda special job.

There is work to do, all day, everyday, in every nook and cranny and corner of the house. And as soon as you fix it, the little people go and mess it up again

At least when you leave the house to go to work, the dust bunnies, the laundry, the overflowing diaper pail, they all stay in the house (unless, like me, there’s a random dirty diaper in your purse and you give the mean side-eye to the lady in Target for coming out the house stanking, but it’s the diaper. In. My. Purse.) And you really don’t think of them again until you return home.

When you go to work, there are breaks, mandated by the federal government. So you go grab a coffee or some fresh air, or chat at the water cooler about your weekend. With adults.

There are no breaks at home. There’s cooking breakfast, then feeding it to little people, then cleaning up three-fourths of the meal from the floor. Then warming up the coffee you didn’t get to drink with your breakfast.

But with caffeine and renewed determination in you, you are able to attempt a craft or some home schooling, change a few diapers, and think about what will happen for lunch and dinner.

But today, the toddler knocked over my coffee.

And I had a Florida Evans moment.

The hubby was working from home today, huddled in a corner (of the living room) at his desk (where he told us to consider him invisible).  But he saw the crazed look in my eyes over the spilled coffee and came to his son’s rescue.

I stumbled away, shaken up and muttering. He’s only two. This is what two-year-olds do. You shouldn’t expect more of him Tavia. This is what happens when they are two.  You really shouldn’t be so dependent on coffee anyway Tavia.

I was forced to contemplate a day without coffee. I put the toddler in timeout on the couch.  I placed the baby in the playpen.

I think I blacked out after that. Seriously. I’m not real sure what happened. The next thing I know I had assembled a lunch of barbecue pulled pork sliders with salad on the table. The baby had sweet potato hash mixed with some of that pulled pork.

My husband was coming through the front door and placed a grande latte in front of me. I prayed with the children, thanking my GOD for strength and helping me pull it together. I asked him to help make the afternoon successful.

Twenty minutes later the baby had dozed in the high chair and the hubby was taking the toddler upstairs for a nap. The baby, too, went down without a fight.

And then there was just me, left to contemplate what to take on next. Should I do a load of laundry?  Shred the mail that keeps piling up? Wash some dishes?

I took a shower. Brushed my teeth. And went on break. Cus all working moms deserve a break.