Self-flagellation is one of her hobbies

Mom returned from dropping Kuki in daycare with a heavy heart and a lighter purse. A considerably lighter purse.

The poor child was screaming bloody murder as the teacher pried her away from her mother's arms. So, of course, now mom feels like she's the worst person on earth; especially, since she headed to the mall right after.

The woman is filled with doubts again about whether she's doing the right thing. She sees power women with immaculate hair and high heels dropping their kids off in school every morning and she sees leisurely, stay-at-home moms with a string of tots planning their day around naptime, and she's not sure which side of the fence is greener.

Newsflash, mom: you can't have your cake and eat it too. (By the way, this idiom makes no sense. What are you supposed to do - just stare and salivate at a slice of cake? Who comes up with these things? Can you eat bread instead?)

Ideally, mom would like to look like Aishwarya Rai and make as much as she does without having to do anything more stressful than getting a manicure, pedicure and hair massage simultaneously.

Since she doesn't look like Aishwarya Rai, mom would like the next best thing - doting grandparents to coddle her kids, a driver to drive her around, a couple of servants, a cook or two to prepare delicacies ... while madam spends the entire day shopping, or at the beauty parlor, or deciding what to wear to the cocktail party tonight.

Wait a minute! I know someone who's living this dream life but is riddled with her own share of self-doubts, anxieties and what-ifs.
Has she stopped worrying? No.
Has she stopped second-guessing herself? No.
Does she want more from life? Yes.

Aah, life is so much simpler if you're a dog.

Or a man.