I set on the foot of the bed, holding my littlest one in one arm and wiping the tears streaming down my face with the other. I set there with little desire to move from the comfort of my bedroom.

It was just passed 8 a.m. and my husband stood in the doorway. His blank face showed zero ability to decide on his next steps as he faced a busy workday and great need for me to pull it together.

Backed into a self-inflicted corner, with a to-do list I clung to, I could barely breathe.

A moment, drenched in overwhelm, had forced its way into our home.

For both of us, the word overwhelm came nothing close to an explanation of the emotional chaos we felt that morning.

Red flags?

They had gone flat out ignored or unattended.

But this day, arriving with an early morning southern California breeze, pushed its way onto the scene. In all my exasperation, my usual ability to drive myself forward had reached, in all seriousness, an all-time low.

Confused and starring at the floor as if it were a road leading the way, I was officially stuck.

This is my most recent overwhelm story and the one I want to connect with you on.

For several reasons..