. . . I want to pull out my hair, or scream, or stomp my feet, or throw something, or all of them.
. . . I can accomplish all the tasks necessary for a smooth day feeling confident, certain, and pleased with jobs well-done.
. . . are simply there, with what seems no rhyme or reason for starting or finishing anything.
I'm having one of these days.
1 comment:
Too bad I can't meet you at Starbucks tonight with a bunch of other moms. Pretending doesn't work either. Better days will come...they always do. ((((Hugs))))
Laura
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