Oh to be a parent. Wait, I am a parent. Oh to be, not a perfect parent, but at least one who doesn't completely flip out at her kids when waking up from a nap only to find one child teasing, in brilliant, subtle, tormenting fashion, the other child to the point of tears, which only leads to that child banned to the outer-existences of the upstairs, a mother whose temper is out of control, an exhausted but guilty conscience and a really, really, long, run on sentence.
Sigh. Perfection just never comes soon enough.