Pecked To Death By A Duck

Today has been going significantly better than yesterday, thank goodness. When Shorty was smaller, those kind of days were common, and I just don't miss it. Drives me nuts when he reverts back to his old ways.

Being a mother is like working for an abusive boss. Who doesn't allow sick days. Or vacation days. Or private toilet breaks, or quiet lunch break. Much like an indentured servant, or at the very least, a sweat shop. And of course there is no union representation.

Now, I realize that this situation has a much better outlook than it did a couple of years ago, when the kid was two, much better. I would not have been able to handle another year of that business. I seriously don't know how some folks have a whole line-up of kids that are very close in age. The insanity wouldn't quit for years! I think the white van would have to come for me. That's all there is to it.

As the magnet on my fridge says: "Having kids is like being pecked to death by a duck." I spose I will have to take that down when Shorty learns to read, huh?

Well at least the duck had his fill yesterday, and isn't picking at my wounds today. I have probably jinxed the whole day now by writing how well it is going, but we shall see.....