I have been in new-baby land, sleep deprived and overwhelmed, feeling like everything I do is falling short in one way or another. And I don't want to post about my struggles, because that's a downer. But I don't have much else to write about because I have no thoughts other than "Lord, I really need some fun in my life, please help me figure out how to get it." and "Oh crap I forgot to [insert task here]."

People are looking at my harried, tired expression as I push the double stroller containing a messy, mismatched toddler and a squalling infant who needs to be fed while my older kids follow behind, bickering. Some of them are holding doors open for me and saying things like, "You've got your hands full!" Others say nothing, but I feel they are thinking, "Yowza, I'm glad I'm not her."

And part of me feels like I need to tell them they're wrong, that my hands are not full, that anyone can handle four kids. I feel like I am a walking illustration for those Catholics who mock/reject Church teaching on NFP as burdensome and unattainable. I feel shame for not presenting the perfect, happy portrait of a mom with four children in the joy of young motherhood. I feel like I'm letting someone down...not sure who...it's just there, hanging over me, like I should be better at this because I have a house cleaner and two babysitters and a husband who pitches in.

God always seems to send me balm when I am smarting. Today I read this post and wanted to share it with all of you:

http://abigails-alcove.blogspot.com/2013/07/on-bookshelf-jim-gaffigans-dad-is-fat.html

Thank you, Abigail, for expressing this so nicely!