Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story

A/N: It's one of those days that I want to scream and cry and just be ALONE. I want all these things, but instead I will write. Because Ginny isn't the only one who needs a moment to breathe. Mamas reading this… Hang in there. I FEEL you. I do.


Sanity


Ginny slid to the floor and let her head fall back against the door with a thud. She ran her hands through her frazzled hair, tugging slightly as she went through the breathing patterns Hermione had taught her ages ago.

It was one of those days where absolutely nothing was going right - where frustration, desperation lurked at every corner of the house, her mind, her sanity.

She cringed every time one of the kids touched her. And they would not stop touching her, as if they were magnetic, stuck to her hip. Her hair was dirty - she hadn't showered in two days - her shirt stained from the children's lunch, and she couldn't remember the last time she ate, herself.

She'd grown up with this expectation that life was meant to be this way - a constant array of dirty dishes, dinner parties, never ending laundry, babies.

So. Many. Babies.

The sound of little feet thumping through the halls above rang out, but it was loud - too loud - and she threw her hands over her ears in an attempt to stop the noise that seemed to dig and burrow its way right into her skin.

She couldn't escape it. She felt like a monster for even trying.

She needed five minutes of freedom. She needed it like she needed air to breathe, and she was afraid if she didn't get it now, she might snap. When she did, it wouldn't be pretty.

Harry was off working, the head Auror that he was, and she was left day in and day out to handle the house and children.

Ginny Weasley - Potter - had grown to expect this life, but this life had not grown on her. This life was not her.

"Mummy?" the small, muffled voice spoke through the door. "Mummy, ya there?"

The witch sighed, rubbing her hands across her face and wiping away any remnants of her misery. Ginny stood, brushing off the back of her trousers and groaning at the dust that fell off. Of course, I haven't had time to get to the bathrooms…

She creaked the door open, stepping out to scoop up the small boy. She hugged him close, breathing in the familiar scent she'd loved since birth.

"I love you mummy," he whispered against her neck, and she smiled softly, pushing away her resentment and sadness for another day - another day like this that was sure to come.