Can I? Nope. I can't.

Are you a mom who has five (or more) preschool (and younger) aged children who loves to can the harvest from your (or your farmer's) garden?

Do you enjoy projects (such as canning pizza sauce) with 15 messy steps to be accomplished while tending to teething twins, a bored four and five year old and possibly the most mischievous three year old to walk the face of the earth (all while your husband announces he's going outside to work on his projects, would you mind locking the door behind him so the children don't get out while he's sawing down limbs. Is it a joy to consider the fact that he can finish a project without having to consider the children interrupting it five hundred million times?)

 If your answers to all or any of the above begin with an enthusiastic "Y", end in "S" and have an "E" tucked in between, please do not leave any trace of your existence on this blog. I hate to be rude, but I simply can not see how we could  possibly be friends.

;)

I. CAN. NOT. DO. EVERY. THING.

(Not even close).

This is a day in which I utter 'Help me, Lord!" 

over

and over

and over 

and over again.

Then I hear the spirit (can't confirm it's the Holy one) whisper "Remember, my frail daughter who would have never made it past mile marker five on the Oregon Trail in 1845, Proverbs 45:22...'Foolish is the woman who hath many small children who thinketh she can canneth without going insaneth. She shall sit under a tree and pour herselfeth a drink that is strong and go back to buying Ragu-eth'".


And once again, she is able to go on.


The end.