Every mom can attest to those indescribable moments of love and compassion when maternal instinct kicks-in, a desire to protect, defend and guard our children when adversity arises. Yet there are times when a mother’s reaction is anything but maternal. Instinctual, sure. Animalistic, maybe. But definitely not maternal. You know what I'm talking about, those vomit-in-the-hair, laundry-less clothes, what-day-is-it-now, countdown-to-bedtime, is-that-feces-on-the-wall, Jesus-come-back-now moments. When those anything-but-rare moments occur, our Carol Brady nature seems merely a stranger. And because we can all use a little oops-I-forgot-the-baby-at-home camaraderie, I blog to share my moments of non-maternal instinct and the hail mary prayers that help me survive.
I am mom to a precious baby boy and an ornery yellow lab. I am wife to a patient, small-town kinda guy, and without him, I'd surely be off my rocker. I blog about the not-so-sunny side of motherhood because it is cheap therapy. And I pray A LOT, because without the big man upstairs, I'd still be in bed.
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