Sugar and Spice

The Brown girls have had an eventful week. Hubby has been at a conference in Vegas all week (listen closely, there are no sad, sad violins playing for him). While he was gone, I turned 35. That's all there is to say about that. Also while he has been gone, Bug has had a mystery bug which delayed her starting her second daycare in one month after being yanked from the first one due to verbal abuse. And, somewhere in there, we celebrated Martin Lever King Day. As I previously reported, daycare #1 didn't get off to a great start. That was to be expected. Unfortunately, the bad start turned into worse and worse days the longer we stayed with it. The bad days turned into bad nights as she dreaded the morning. Suspicions were high, but I pushed that mother's intuition down. But then Nona paid a surprise visit to pick her up and walked in on a teacher screaming "SHUT UP" and my little Bug crying. No wonder she hated it so much. Sadly, it all started to make way to

There's an anonymous prayer that makes its way around the internet and gets posted on office refrigerators called either A Prayer for Today or Morning Prayer. It's a tongue-in-cheek prayer about how perfect the speaker has been and ends with the revelation that he or she has not even gotten out of bed yet. Like most humor, it's funny because it is true. Like most truth, it stings a little. I'm the best mother I can be in the morning. I feel full of hope (at least once I'm full of coffee). I have plans for joy, learning, sharing, and loving. I drop my kids off and cannot wait to see them again. Then life happens. Then 5 o'clock rolls around. Most days I'm no longer the mother I want to be. I've got hungry, wound up tiny people literally hanging on me, both talking at the same time, asking for snacks, telling me of their days, all while I'm trying to go through mail and cook dinner. That's when I turn into a mother I'm embarrassed