The good stuff

Here's something for all the exasperated mama's out there. Yeah, it's hard, this job. Nobody says thanks for de-germing the kitchen (or the children), for doing seven or twelve loads of laundry in a day (oh yeah, baby), for figuring out how to feed/clothe/entertain everybody on next to no money and what little creativity remains in your brain. There are waaaay too many bodily fluids involved in motherhood--amniotic is the least of it. The little boogers get into stuff, break things (mostly your heart), and wake up just when you're begging God for a whole night's sleep. (You know, just once a decade would be fine.) And then a mama who's had a bad day, one of those, "What was I thinking--having children? I'm not good at this, I'm raising sociopaths," kind of days, the mama goes and does this and you remember that the bad day, the many bad days, can't compete with the sweeter parts of reality.

Aww. Maybe this job isn't so hard. . .