I don't know what to title the following rambling...

Just this morning I said to myself, nearly out loud, "Is today going to be the day nothing in my home gets stained, broken, ripped or ruined?"

I don't know why I do it to myself. It is masochism? Is it hope? Is it unnecessary expectations?

After cleaning pink highlighter off my dining room chairs, attempting to fix a broken DVD player, taping two board books, repairing one leap pad booklet, and blankly staring at the wonder of a large ink line "magically" appearing on my son's polo shirt by dinnertime, I think today isn't going to be the day.

And I have decided that's okay.