I'm OK, You're OK...

I've been in this weird, dark, bitter place lately. I still don't know where it's coming from. I'm not going to reveal the innermost depths of my soul, sorry. (Not sorry).

Suffice it to say, I worry about my kids. Like, lately I've been wondering if it's worth it to love another person so much that you can't stand anything hurtful happening to them.

Oh my gosh, it's life! Did you not figure that out before you had kids, Debra?

I'm like one of the contestants on The Bachelor, all crying and sad while everyone yells at the TV, "this show has been on for 47 seasons! Did you not know what you were getting into?"

Well, say I (and the bachelorettes), nothing you watch or read or hear can prepare you for what the experience is really like.

Here I am as a capital MOTHER, and I have to believe in my kids. I have to believe that there will be goodness and happiness and kindness in their life. I also have to believe that when life isn't good, and happy, and kind, that they possess the strength and resilience to get them through.

I have to believe that. And when I don't and I'm still pouting, I'll just have to thank my lucky stars they're not child soldiers somewhere in the Congo.

They are OK. They are OK. They are OK.

I am OK.