To the Mama Who Can’t Fix It All

I am a “fixer,” as are you, Mama. We are the booboo-bandagers, the household organizers, the finders of the lost pacis, baby dolls, keys, basically EVERYTHING under the sun. They lose it, and we find it. Isn’t that how the world turns? We were made to fix it all… or at least that’s how it feels most days. And when …