Last week I complained a good deal about being a stay-at-home mother (the fact I actually paid human dollars for this privilege is not lost on me). Sometimes it's hard to find the right balance between loving these kids so darn much I'm almost certain a third one was left behind and trying to scratch it's way out of my chest, because there's no other explanation for this achy feeling, and wanting to lock myself inside a small dark space where no smell of pee or poop can find me.
Luckily I think I've found a cure for those lackluster days, it's called visiting a 3-star daycare facility. Yesterday I carted the babies around town and researched part time daycare and preschool options. I'm now completely confident I can speak for all working mothers when I say no daycare facility, regardless of star rating, can ever make a mother feel 100% comfortable in handing over the most important thing she's ever created in her entire life. Which lends itself to the very satisfying realization that maybe I'm not doing such a bad job after all as a stay-at-home mama.
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