I'm tired.

As we head into week SEVENTEEN of working remotely with two children under four without consistent, out-of-the-home childcare, I’m tired.

I’m tired of smiling for my children and crying in the shower.

I’m tired of being brave about changing the world and being terrified that it will all just stay the same.

I’m tired of protecting my family from a global pandemic and yet exposing them in small ways every day to an unrelenting killer that could potentially claim one of us.

I’m tired of speaking out and being shut down.

I’m tired of getting dressed for work every day to sit alone in an office with insurmountable tasks on my to-do list and a never-ending stream of ruminations in my head.

I’m tired of seeing every single one of my talented, resilient, gifted and dedicated working-parent friends struggling...drowning...and receiving nothing more than empty placating platitudes from the companies for whom they are pouring blood, sweat and tears from an empty, barren cup.

I’m tired of telling the truth about how hard this all is and receiving unsolicited and unwarranted feedback on a reality that no person who isn’t living this experience first hand has a right to judge.

I’m tired.

But I don’t have the luxury of giving up. None of us do. Week SEVENTEEN. Here it is. We can tackle it together or be trampled by it alone. It won’t be easy. It, likely, won’t be kind. It won’t slow or stop, even if we beg.

But I’m here to say, you’re not alone. We can do hard things. Don’t wait until you’re in crisis to prioritize yourself. And don’t be afraid to say you’re struggling and need help. It’s the most courageous and vulnerable thing you can do.