I am 28 years old, and I have four, yes count them, four beautiful children. Except sometimes it feels like there are ten of them, and only one of me. And when they are all hungry, or thirsty, or need attention I feel like Lois from The Family Guy.

Do you remember this commercial? My youngest son will do it for me and even in the Stewie Accent.



So yeah, that is my life right there. Catatonic and uninterested till I blow up. No, not all the time, but more than I should I suppose. I love my kids, LOVE THEM I TELL YOU. But there are just days that I want to put my head under the water and SCREAM. And I get NO sympathy from my many mom's until, they inevitably have to come over and watch my four heathens while I am catatonic! Then for maybe a week they realize... wow they are as destructive and overwhelming as she says. For a week. Then it is "what you need to do Sam, is.."

I get to hear about how my grandmother (mother of two children) did it all by herself with an abusive husband. She worked all day, came home, took care of the house hold, and she had two kids! Wow.. I say... wow. Not to take away from her glory, what she did was NOT easy by any stretch of the imagination. She also had a different cross to bear.  And lets face it, hide it all she wants, she HAD to have some type of chemical assistance. I suspect it was weed, but she will NEVER fess up to that.

Then there is my great-grandmother. She had eight kids, a busy husband who I am sure could be a jerk, since all men are at times no matter how wonderful they are. She lived on a farm with eight kids, all suitably spaced apart. Now my great grandmother is part of the greatest generation, and I revere her. But I am not stupid, can we say black beauties and mimosa? hmmmm?

My biodad doesn't judge of course, he has two children with his wonderful wifey who is like supermom. She just nods, smiles, and slowly backs away. I think my franticness amuses her. I don't mind being amusing.

And my biomom. Well she sympathizes the most. She hasn't had exactly the same circumstance but close. And she went as batshit crazy as I am. She had chemical assistance too.

Yes I am on "chemical assistance"  God Bless the makers of Wellbutrin. May thier lives be filled with love and laughter.

So here is my problem. Weed, not a taboo in the 60's and 70's, Black Beauties and Mimosa, perfectly acceptable back in the day. Wellbutrin? Frankly it makes me look pathetic. Oh that girl who wanted to be a housewife can't handle it, she is on happy pills.

So I am laying it on the line. Women across time have had chemical assistance to get them through the day with thier children. Tea, Coffee, Mimosa, Blackbeauties, Weed.  Then there is my generation. Drinking in the morning? Bad, out of the quiestion. Coffee, Tea, Pop? Unhealthy, although socially acceptable cannot satisfy, and black beauties and weed? Illegal.  So my generation gets Xanax, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, Abilify, Citalopram, and whatever else they can shove down our throats to help us get through the day.

So for all you mothers who get me. God Bless. For all of those who don't, listen to that commercial up yonder 20 times, and if you don't want an aspirin I'll be surprised.