Since rising at six this morning, I have already endured a prolonged glowering match with the son, a screaming tantrum from the daughter, and a pitying glance from the husband as he dashed off for work so fast he could have been in warp drive. Currently, the time is 9:15. AM.
It's going to be a long three months.
Credit: Anne Taintor, patron saint of moms all year long