Let’s be honest. The stay at home gig isn’t glamorous or sunshine and roses every day. I will NOT miss the grand mal tantrums. The flipping chaos over a box of raisins is unbelievable. My toddler is crying like he’s being stabbed … in the head. Fucking raisins, man.
Although I still don’t want to go back to work in a week. The heaving heartsickness of it all is almost too much to bear.