Can I check out?

A couple of weeks ago, I read a random blog of someone I don't know (what does that say about my voyeuristic personality?), and the blogger said that, for once, she wanted to check out of motherhood for 12 hours. (Granted, she found lice on her two year old's head, and who wouldn't want to check out after that?) There were a few times I felt the desire to check out this week. Sometimes, motherhood is the hardest, most unrewarding job I've ever had to do. (And I was a teacher at private schools!) I had to take more than one big breath this week and wonder how I was going to make it through the next hour, let alone the next day. Whatever could go wrong this week, did. Does anyone else feel this way? I keep trying to figure out what is at the root of this feeling, but I've come to the conclusion that, as a good family friend says, "When the devil shits, he shits in a big pile." I love that saying. My prayers need to be bigger than the devil's pile.