Let me begin by saying that we love our children and our husbands (most of the time). We are better women for having had children. We cherish the time we have with each one of them and God-forbid anything ever happen to one of them- put us in a mental institution because we could not recover.
When our second children are born and we feel like we could not possibly love another child nearly as much as we love our first- an amazing thing happens. We don’t share the love- we simply make more! It is only later in their lives that their non-stop whining can aid us in determining (and even sharing with them) which child we love more from one day to the next.
BUT we are even better women for admitting that occasionally we feel overwhelmed, exhausted, derailed, insane, frayed, fatigued, pissed off, depressed, short fused and completely & utterly consumed by our children (oh, and sometimes… happy).
Their lives have become our lives. No longer do we have the luxury of sitting by the pool reading a book with baby oil slathered on our heretofore spotless legs. As mothers we no longer shave daily- or even shower daily for that matter. When we DO shave, we have to pull up the excess sagging skin around our knees so that we don’t nick our wrinkled kneecaps with the razor. We shower quickly, because either someone is waiting or someone is watching.