How do some mothers manage to be so effing perfect? You know the ones. They manage to take a daily shower, their hair’s done, they’re dressed like they just came back from a Gap photo shoot, which, by the way, was shot in their perfectly gardened back yard—which is supposed to also work as a metaphor for their lady parts. Me? My Texas wildflowers are suffocating under an explosion of smooth crabgrass. No. That’s not a metaphor for me having crabs, but a literal description of the flowerbed by the front door. 

They are either leaders in their profession or they’re successful entrepreneurs or they write voraciously read & loyally followed blogs. Or in many cases, all three. They cook for their husbands. Their floors aren’t covered in pet hair. Their bathrooms are shiny. They find time to get their toe nails done. They’re perfectly tan (or porcelain white, but by choice, not by no-other-choice).

Their photography ‘hobby’ can easily be turned into a profession because their pictures are that good. They’re insightful and witty and have endless things to write about. They go to the gym and accomplish the goals that they set out for themselves—first a 5k, then a half-marathon, then a full… o, wait! now they’re an Iron^^WOman!

How do they do everything so effing well, ev-er-y day? While I always seem to have (at least) one ball dropped somewhere? They must be on crack. That’s right, you heard me, they are All. On. Crack!  

Now, hurry up and give me some!