Pecked to death by a duck . . .

I honestly can't remember where I heard this the first time, but someone, whoever it was, in an attempt to diffuse a scary parenting situation (I was probably red faced and exasperated, trying to clean yogurt off the rug or peanut butter off the walls) told me that raising small children was like being pecked to death by a duck. I considered this for a moment and then realized how true that felt to me -- the byline of my life. I think of this often when I'm consoling screaming children for the 3rd time in 3 minutes or making dinner with two 32lb weights sitting on my feet, and I realize that being pecked to death by a duck isn't the worst way to go. Sometimes it's downright enjoyable.