*Post written by: Jennifer Thompson, www.trulyyoursjen.com I feel like the suburban mom version of Eminem in the movie 8 Mile. “His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom’s spaghetti He’s nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs, But he keeps on forgetting what he wrote down….” They call our names. The moment I had been dreading all morning was upon us. There was no turning back… Keep Reading
