I'd like a non-fat, no whip, mocha, vodka, crack latte - to go

Forgot legalizing marijuana.
I need some kind of amphetamine to keep me going, preferably one that has side effects including, but not limited to weight loss, clear skin, shiny hair and a cheery disposition. Okay, maybe that's a bit far reaching, if a mom had a cheery disposition all the time, everyone would know she was on drugs. Dead give away.
I used to teach elementary school. I used to be the person parents sent their children off to who spent more hours of the day with those children than their parents did. Parents are smart.
Then I gave birth to my second child and we (my husband and I) decided that I could stay home this time around. FANTASTIC! I thought. I'll be able to devote myself 100% to the kids and our home and won't be walking through the door with work stress stuck to me like Velcro.
I will take up baking and cook more and still manage to lose all that baby weight... because I'll be home all the time.
Insert visual of crack head here.
I wish I still had a stash of what I must have been smoking then.
It's not that I thought it would be easy. It's just so different than what I thought it would be. I don't miss the work stress, but I do miss the camaraderie of co-workers. I don't bake regularly, but some of the refrigerated cookie dough actually makes it into the oven to fulfill it's purpose of becoming a cookie - the rest of the dough never had a chance. I do cook more, but not as adventurously or exotically as I wish I did. Wait, do fish sticks count as exotic if there not in an actual "stick" shape? As for the baby weight, please refer to the cookie dough eating segment of my ramblings. I have (in spurts) done a better job of carving out time to do my impression of a hamster on a wheel in my basement on my elliptical. I reference a hamster because they are still considered cute when they're a little pudgy, and I am a little furrier than I would like as my eyebrows are screaming for a waxing. I applaud those moms who I see out there with their Baby Bjorns, power walking while talking on their blue tooth (I suspect scheduling their eyebrow waxing.) I find myself looking at the other mom's at kindergarten drop off who are in an "outfit," not just clothes that are clean with hair that is styled (no, pony tails don't count, I asked.) Then I start to feel this tugging on my heart strings, well, actually, it's my son tugging on my pant leg, scamming for more Goldfish crackers. I realize that there was a time when I painstakingly chose my outfits, styled my hair and spent several minutes deciding what shade of gloss I was going to wear that day. That all led me to dating, getting married and having children! So I'll wear my t-shirt and yoga pants that may or may not match with my ponytail flying like the flag for motherhood - because the guy at the Starbucks drive thru might actually think I'm wearing yoga pants because I just got out of an actual yoga class. And that plus my grande latte will get me through the day.