When, oh when, will moms learn that sometimes the "perfect" thing to do is to put yourself in time-out? It's not going to be any time soon, it seems, because every year about this time, just like worms on the sidewalk after a spring rain, all of the "there is no such thing as a perfect mother" columns come out.

Like this one from Heather Cabot. Moms, she reminds moms, need to remember that they need time to themselves as well. Cabot slips in the titles of two new books, both of which are probably delightful but tread well-trod ground. In short: chill the fuck out and figure out ways to get the time you need.

It's great advice -- but how many times do mothers need to be reminded of it? Are we that dense? Or that unobservant? Or that in need of a nap?

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