Road trips always seem so romantic. I imagine my feet up on the dash (umm...when I'm not the one driving), picnics of stinky cheese and fresh baguette by a beautiful waterfront, sharing witty anecdotes and intimate stories with my partner.
I'll admit it. I don't shower as often as I should. Some days I get lucky enough to accompany one or both of my children in their pee-infused tepid bath water. I haven't lost any friends yet, so I figure I'm doing okay.
Shit happens when you're a mama to small children. Like, literally. Every day. There is shit. Often on my hands, sometimes on my clothes, frequently on the floor/furniture/carpet/carseat/stairs... pretty much everywhere except in the toilet or in a diaper.