Whether the day was good or bad, the nights are always the same. I find myself lying in bed critiquing everything I did or said. Most evenings, I cringe. Last night, for example, I felt bad because I had gotten annoyed with one of the girls. We had gone to the grocery store and, after returning home, I discovered that she had accidentally gotten a bag of green peas instead of the corn I had requested. {In my defense, who eats green peas?} Hours later, I’m wondering why it was such a big deal. I am so much better than I used to be but, y’all, I am still pretty high strung.

Like the cartoon, Caillou, that my youngest is currently obsessed with? Mercy, but the little boy in that show makes me want to run with scissors. And, from the responses to my Facebook post about this issue, y’all feel my pain on that one. And that is what I love about this bloggy, Facebooky world – y’all are my people. Where else can one find so much sympathy for things like unending laundry, broken coffee pots and other horrors of parenthood?

Whether you’re dealing with the delights of beautiful, squishy new babies who refuse to sleep.

Or toddlers who manage to climb onto the stove, spill milk in the floor and drag your unmentionables out when you have company.

Or preschoolers who only seem to be able to communicate in that high-pitched, dogs-cover-their-ears, I-will-get-my-way-or-else tone of voice.

Or tweens or teens or any of those other stages that I have yet to reach but am already praying desperately over.

Wherever you are in the journey, you can put a shout out on social media and twenty folks are going to answer back, “me too.” Score one for the Internet. Yes, within these walls, I am grossly outnumbered and I don’t always care remember when I showered last. But, out there, in that space where you, my people, are also trying to figure out what to make for supper using the leftover whatever, some cottage cheese and the green peas your child accidentally put in the shopping cart – out there – we get each other. We are united in our efforts to love our families, take care of our homes and raise our children well.

So, hurray us.

Yay for those of us proudly hiding in the bathroom from our children and for the ones on Facebook that remind us to bring chocolate.

High five to those of us who stock our pantry with Pop tarts and put them on the bottom shelf so the little people can handle breakfast all by themselves.

Rock on, soccer moms, y’all are my people.