“I love my children, I love my children, I love my children,” Marian mumbled under her breath as she cleaned up the playroom for at least the fifth time today. She looked up at the clock. The little plastic hands were mocking her by saying it was not even noon. It was a Saturday, and her three kids were running amok. She had two twin 5 year old girls, followed up by a 3 year old boy, and it seemed like life never stopped. Her husband traveled for work 3 weeks out of the month, effectively making her a single mom. Plus, she had a full-time corporate job and was getting her MBA online in the evenings. If it wasn’t for her neighbor Rhonda, she’d lose her mind.

Rhonda was a godsend. She was retired, a grandma several times over, a widow, and a genuinely kind, laid-back person. Most of Rhonda’s family lived across the country, if not on a different continent, and she used her fabulous, calming, sweet grandmother energy to the benefit of Marian and her children. Marian could never adequately repay her, but she was incredibly grateful for the support. But it was the weekend, when Marian could hardly bother Rhonda to come over and help her with her screaming hellions running laps around the house. Rhonda usually came over in the afternoons, after school and daycare, to help Marian get the kids fed and settled down so Marian could eat cold leftovers quickly over the sink and then do schoolwork in bed with a (large) glass of wine until she passed out around 9PM, absolutely exhausted. More than once she awoke with a start in the middle of the night with a glass of wine spilled on her/the bed. It’s why she switched to white wine.... Click here to read the rest of the story!