I know yesterday was Mother's day, but what about today? I sit here still not wanting to pick-up the clothes, do the dishes, fold the laundry (let alone put it away), take out the trash, feed one child and give medicine to another, sweep up the dirt from where hubby was planting a tree, get little bums washed, clip nails for an entire army of flanges’, find lost toys and broken pieces, take a shower and fix my hair, put up homework and sign some paper to volunteer (again), clean barf off my shirt for the 3rd time in one day, pull a tick off the dog, put a band-aid on it even though there’s nothing there, pick-up sticky whatever, drive to the post office, bank, or dry cleaners, cook breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, snack, supper and snack again (all in one day), pay the bills, "please" my hubby, dust, organize anything and last but not least get on the scale to see how much I’ve gained/lost today… all while trying to blog to you nice people. Just for one more day I'd like to have it done for me. Is it so bad to want Mother’s week?
But as soon as I think all these crazy thoughts, I feel horribly guilty for them and know I'm lucky to have it ALL to do. Otherwise I wouldn't be MOMMY!!!
p.s. would someone mind telling my hubby I do all these things, except for the ticks that is!
