The world in a grain of sand

• Laughing instead of screaming as your children careen around the examining room like miniature tornadoes, even though you are exhausted beyond words.
• Singing to your toddler as she stares seriously into your eyes, pressing her hands against your cheeks.
• Locking yourself in the bathroom so that your children can't hear you sobbing.
• Being the Bad Bionicle for the 34th time and not really minding. Wanting to rip your eyes out, but other than that, not really minding.
• Thinking that Kipper would be a good name for a dog.
• Slapping your child. Once. And never forgiving yourself. Ever.
• Lying in your kid's bed laughing your heads off together over Junie B. Jones stories.
• Lying in your bed worrying that something is really wrong with your children.
• Wanting nothing more than to kick the ass of the jerk who had the gall to imply that something might be really wrong with your children.
• Terror.
• Ecstasy.
• Guilt.
• Love, love, love, love, love.