Today, I hate work. It's not that I hate my job, I actually like my job most of the time. I just feel panicked that I am ruining my children by shipping them off to daycare. I spend 3 hours a night with them. In those three hours I make dinner, give baths, have 30 to 45 minutes of time with them and then send them off to bed. I had motherhood pictured as this wonderful time when I would take the kids to the park and the library and museums each week. I would teach them to love to learn and love to read. I would open their little eyes to the world around them by spending every day helping them with new things. Instead, I get up, rush them to get dressed and drop them off at Samantha's (God love her she is very sweet) where they do who knows what. They eat all kind of things I would never feed them, they watch tv and play video games and then they come home and refuse my health food, fight with me and go to bed. WAAAAAAAA.
I am sure that my children are fine but I do wish that I could stay home with them and take care of them while they are so little. I know, I tried that and I was grumpy and depressed but that doesn't meant that I can't have days like today when I fantasize about the Sound of Music/Mary Poppins type of existence we would (yeah right) have if I could only quit my job and spend my days with my babies.