I had been forced, for the first time in my motherhood career, to actually leave a full cart of groceries in the middle of the store after I half-dragged a screaming child around in a desperate attempt to stop his crying by pretending it wasn't actually happening. (Side note: that technique is something along the parenting equivalent of na-na-na-na, I can't hear you! Also? It's horribly ineffective.)
The other two children had somehow discovered an entire Christmas box order that contained nothing but packing peanuts (order mix-up) and shredded them into approximately 18 million little unvacuumable pieces along the living room rug. And to top things off for the day, the oldest had peed her pants on the way home from school. In.our.driveway.
In short, it was an awesome day.
And when I at last collapsed on the couch, feeling too zonked to even pour myself a glass ofRead More »from How Blogging About My Husband Turned into a Betrayal of Our Marriage