There are days, not unlike today, that are simply best captured by a New Yorker cartoon:
(Sent to me by a friend -- it was sent to her by her dad.)
This is not a complaint. I remember sitting in my office and plotting my escape. A lot of the time not having a full-time job is downright GLORIOUS.
But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that having a third child doesn't have me plotting what my next step will be. I'm itching to get back to work. All I know is what I don't want to do.