Today I cried over spilled milk. Literally—almond milk, running down the side of my daughter's stroller in a hotel parking lot. For two minutes, I was convinced the meltdown was about the milk. It wasn't. It was a week and a half of early mornings, long drives, no sleep, and a nervous system waving a white flag while I insisted we could fit in one more thing. The milk was just the last straw. Here's what I'm learning about the exhaustion under the small stuff—and why catching

Today I was that parent — carrying a screaming toddler through a public place while strangers watched. But one detail changed everything: a sensitivity to the dye in her medication. Nobody else could have known. They saw ten minutes, not the whole story. A tender reminder that you never know what someone is going through, and sometimes the kindest thing we can do is offer grace before judgment. We see a moment. God sees the whole story.