I quit pushing snooze. It’s 6:20 a.m and I force myself to get out of bed.

“Start getting ready, call Garrett and wake him up, finish getting ready, wake up Kristen.”

My morning to-do list fills my head.

“Can you get Addi ready?” I ask, “I’m running a little late.”

Making my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I hear Addi cry from the living room. Kristen attempts to calm her, but the screams just worsen. She didn’t get in bed until 10:30 p.m last night, and she whines for more sleep.

“Take Addi to daycare, go to school, figure out who’s picking up Addi, go to work.”

The list continues.

“Who’s picking up Addi today?” I ask.

“Are you working?” Kristen asks, “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

I pick Addi up and head for the door. She lays her head on my shoulder and rubs snot across my black NorthFace pullover.

“Greaaaat,” I think, “Snot stains for the rest of the day.”

In the car seat, she’s slowly falling asleep. I pull out of the neighborhood and she’s out. A moment of silence, and I break. The tears flow. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Stress gets the best of me.

Addi wakes up and her crying begins again. I try to calm her. Now we’re both crying. The responsibility of schoolwork, having a job, taking and picking up my niece to day care was killing me. I held it all in until I couldn’t anymore.

I dry my tears and walk Addi into daycare. She begs me not to go. I let her hand go and walk towards the door.

“I know it can be hard to let them go sometimes,” the lady behind the counter says.

“If you only knew,” I reply and wipe a tear off my face. “It’s just been a rough morning.”

And I walk out the door.