Desperate Housewives had me bawling last night. Last night Lynette (the mom of four kids under the age of seven) got caught up in a cycle of no sleep at night and crazy kids during the day. Granted, the plot had acupuncture, an addiction to her kids' Riddalin and the usual looniness one expects from DH, but for once I identified with her. I understood about having a dream about screaming at your kids and throwing a jar of peanut butter straight through a window. She gives all four kids to one of her friends and gets in the car and speeds off with no explanation except that she needs a break. She finally breaks down and tells her friends how hard it's been and how she's going crazy. They hug her and tell her that they had amazingly rough times when their kids were small too and that it's even harder with so many young ones. "But why didn't any of you TELL ME?" she sobbed. And I completely understood what she meant. Not why doesn't anyone tell you how hard raising kids is; but why didn't anyone else tell me that they went through the same thing and survived? That I'm not alone in my desperation; that everyone else does not have all the answers, and that is quite possible to love your children with every bone in your body and try to be the best mom in the entire world and still long to fling open the car door and run away anywhere for a little while, just for some quiet. And that PPD makes it even harder. I swear to God, if there isn't a national organization for moms, there ought to be. People should know that they're not alone in all of this. Maybe I should start one (in my spare time, ha ha ha!) But truly, my life is at least twenty times better than it was in August - I am handling things so much better. Whether it's time or less hormones, I don't know, but all three kids are sick this week and while I'm stressing, I'm nowhere near as bad as I would have been 6 months ago. You know you've turned a corner when you wake up and hear this over the monitor first thing in the morning, and it makes you giggle instead of cry: (Sneeze.) "Uh-oh. Oh, Sophie has boogers. Boogers aaaaalllll over Sophie's face. Mama clean it up for Sophie. Mama come and get the boogers. Eeew. Boogers. Mama come get Sophie, clean it all up." (etc. etc.) I think I just might make it.