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Truth: I was super excited about the throwing out of the 2013 calendar. In fact, despite the many beautiful moments tucked within those dates there were, what felt to be, a disproportionate number of days where I simply felt like I wanted to throw in the towel, get down on the floor, have a tantrum like my four year old has mastered, and yell a very whiny it�s not fair. But, I didn�t. Well, most of the time.
My adult tantrum looked more like me loading everyone up in my fifteen year old gas guzzling Suburban that I have nicknamed The Beast and driving over the rolling hills to my local Starbucks. This Starbucks, by the way, has become an iconic place for me as I feel like Norm from Cheers (I�ve just dated myself) when I walk in the door because I�m greeted with a loud and resounding cheer of Rachel as I walk in through that vestibule. Somehow my extra hot caramel macchiato is the solution to my it�s not fair overwhelmed days of motherhood.
I spotted a mirror image: a woman, with a young son, who looked as stressed
out as I felt. As our kids lined up chairs to make a train, she laughed and said,
"We'll survive this day better if we sit together." Phoebe and I