And I know many people would give nearly anything to be in my shoes even on my worst days. I do understand that the terrible twos and sleepless nights and tantrums and postpartum depression are gifts, really. They are.
But I do take all of this for granted, because I think that's what we're supposed to do. You can't "live each day like it's your last," or you'd never go to work or get after your kids for being disrespectful or even clean the house. I complain freely here for the benefit of other people who are struggling with everyday, chaotic, regular life. I try to be funny, and as honest as possible. I am not a great person -- I am petty and selfish and trifling -- so my "honest" is ugly.
If you happen to read any of this at a time when your life is not everyday and regular, and it stings that I have so much and still complain so much, please know that I do realize what I have. I do.