We get those brand-spanking new calendars with pristine, blank sheets and numbers that hold so much promise for organization and goals and unrealistic but well-intended resolutions. And then the kids start beating each other with Santa toys and you smell the garbage (again) and the cat's peeing on the floor next to the baby's blankie and all that beautiful dreaminess of new beginnings fades into a normal day. Sure, there are those blessings and light. But mostly, there are dishes and disposable diapers and toys that talk in irritating voices. Here's some of that sweet, sweet magic already oozing out of parental lives in '08:
The damn dog.
Effing toddler-eating monsters.
Incriminating, irritating Target receipts.
Saving grace books on poop.
Save-the-day big girl panties.
