F-Bomb and Mom

Fletcher is 4 and Gwendolyn is 14. Before their lives with me have slipped away to time completely, I must capture them in all their suckiness and glory. Hence this blog. Motherhood is a miracle of sorts, and a curse in other sorts. It is painful glee, exhuberant brain freeze. It is a manic-depressive x-game, skinned-knee ice ball fight with cookies and pudding pops. You know it. Why not share it with a potty-mouthed mom of two from the sweltering no-man's land of fulfilled discontent?