During each day there are times when I feel enormously lucky, deeply content. I smile indulgently at my children and answer their every question with my full attention: "What is my favorite swimming animal? Oh, I'd have to say the otter." I make bright suggestions: gosh, does it seem like a good time of day for some ice cream? I am beatifically rooted in the exact moment and in no rush for the next one to come along. Namaste, motherfuckers.
Then there are the times when I'm practically crawling out of my own skin, restless and stupendously bored, not a single ounce of patience or a gentle motherly smile left in me. I've got that Grinch monologue stuck in my head: And then ... all the noise! All the noise, noise, noise, noise! If there's one thing I hate ... all the noise, noise, noise, noise!
Summer break, man. This is hard.