One of the things I love about being a Mom is that my life is interconnected with my children. They are both under seven and need help to navigate the day. Generally, I serve as that help. I am their primary care giver. And although it is exhausting, I enjoy it.

Subtracting me from their daily routine is disruptive to everyone. It means that my husband is responsible for everything. Instead of helping me, he becomes the primary caregiver. While he is highly capable, he is not me.

Last night, while I was having BBQ at an iconic Memphis restaurant called, "Germantown Commissary", I tried to Face Time with my family. I thought that would be a way for us to stay connected. It worked well until my daughter said, "Come home now!" That phrase incited the baby who began crying. Then, the Facetime session devolved into a crying session for like five good minutes. I didn't cry because I didn't want to cause a scene, but I wanted to. 

Despite my efforts, I must have become visibly sad because a Stranger bought my dinner. While this gesture didn't erase my heartache, it did make me smile. In a small way it made be believe that everything would be alright. So, I will be eternally grateful.

NOTE TO ALL: Memphis is not where you go if you're on a diet...
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