|Look at that posture. I look totally dejected.|
It just seems to me that all I'm doing is taking my work on the road (that is, as soon as I've finished with the madness of packing clothes and sundries, trying to forget as few items as possible, and wishing I could measure up to Prickly Dad's idea of the right way to do things, all while attempting -- unseccesfully -- to stave off a panic attack from all the pressure). I'd venture to guess that no matter what your job is, it's going to be especially difficult and stressful to do it in an unfamiliar location and without your complete toolbox with you. Mothering is no exception.
It must get better at some point, right? Will there come a point when I can sit on the beach like I used to and listen to the ocean or read a book without the perpetual intrusion of "Mom! Look at me! Mom! Look! Mom! Mom! You're not looking! Mom! Mom! Mom!" Will I ever be able to have a meal in a restaurant without a kid insisting on crawling under the table or having to be placated with a Kindle game? Will the boys eventually grow out of their compulsion to jump on the hotel beds and, instead, act like civilized human beings?
Somebody just tell me it gets better.