Productivity…
A wonderfully productive day, where I achieved even more than I thought possible this morning, sipping my beloved brew, contemplating how things would shake out today.
Only catch: it was a day that involved very little interaction or time with my kids. Oh God. Oh no. I feel it. Ugh. Here it comes… here it comes, oozing from the sloppy, odiferous depths of my soul….
Mommy guilt.
Productivity. Children. Why must these two concepts be so completely and utterly mutually exclusive?
Why can’t I have a wonderfully productive day, where I feel like I am swinging the world around by it’s long, fuzzy tail, AND have been attentive to my kids?
But, I am woman… and my mother! Hear me roar! I will not succumb! Back… back! Back from whence you came… you… you… you, maternal soul devouring monster, you!
I wash my hands… I steel myself…
All I know is that today’s been one helluva day. Where’s me durn kids?
