I had a craving for cookies this afternoon. Just as they had started baking in the oven, a fuse blew. My husband was out on a run, and since we’re at our summer house, I had no idea how to fix it. I felt worthless for not being able to fix it myself and disappointed because I was really looking forward to some great cookies—and I cried.

My 8yo son hugged me from the front, my 3yo daughter hugged me from behind. They both said, “It’s okay, Mom. We love you.” I may have flat cookies, but I also have the sweetest kids.

Let’s normalize letting our kids see us cry.