It's one of those (weeks) days.
You know the one.
The one where you wonder if you're a bad parent for actually considering locking your firstborn in a closet (I promise it would be a big closet!)?
The one where you seriously consider following through on your threat to sell them to the gypsies.
You know, the one where it's too cold to play outside, the baby won't (can't) nap, and you didn't have nearly enough sleep last night? And you'll get no relief tonight because your husband has a KofC meeting after supper? Your only saving grace is that you're having leftovers for supper, so you don't have to cook and dishes are minimal?
Where your prayer candle is lit not for Haiti, but for your own children and your sanity?
Where you don't even get to finish counting to ten when you need to intervene... again... ?
(... where did I put that phone number for the gypsies...?)