The Soft Wife: 100 RULES TO A SOFTER LIFE

I didn't wake up one morning and decide to become a soft woman. I became tired ofbeing a tired one.My name is M. Just M.I'm thirty-seven years old, a wife, a mother, and the person everyone seems to callwhen they can't find something. Where are my keys? Did you make the appointment?What's for dinner? Did you pay that bill? Where's my charger? Do we have toothpaste?What time do we have to leave?For years, I answered. I found the keys. I remembered the appointments. I bought thetoothpaste. I knew which bill was due Friday and which could wait until Monday. Iremembered birthdays, grocery lists, school deadlines, doctor's appointments, andwhat everyone liked on their sandwich.I was good at it. Maybe too good. Because somewhere along the way, being capablebecame my entire personality.People called me strong. I used to love that word. Strong. It sounded like acompliment. Until I realized that sometimes when people call a woman strong, whatthey really mean is: She'll handle it. And I always did.