kids {mom} for sale.

Yesterday I was at the point that I was willing to barter my children on Craigslist for something as basic as a new step stool. Even if it were legal, I don't think anyone would have traded me. To keep things fair, these guys probably would want to sell me on Craigslist, too. . . if they knew what Craigslist was. Or had any concept of money.

I am getting to the point of pregnant-ness where I just cannot keep up with them, no matter how hard I try. And that's the other thing -- I'm not sure if I am actually trying hard, or if everything I do just feels like I am trying hard.  I can't reach pacifiers that fall all the way underneath the crib. I can't grab a bus that rolls under the tv stand. I have no lap for the boys to sit in when they are hurt, tired or want to read a story. I can't wrestle, run, or give horsey-back rides.  I'm kind of lame. I get it. So I can understand if they really think I'm no fun right now.

But yesterday? The feeling was mutual. I'm just sayin'.