It's not being up late nights comforting a feverish infant who refuses to nurse.
It's not chasing a toddler down the aisle of the church, hoping that stinky diaper stays on until you can get him to the nursing room to change it.
It's not cleaning up fluorescent vomit when the 4-year-old eats way too much yogurt right before bed.
It's not picking up the pieces from the 9-year-old who is falling apart because she wasn't chosen for student council.
It's not the basketball games, the football games, the swimming lessons, or half-day kindergarten.
It's not piles of laundry, sticky fingers, missing shoes, or car seats.
It's not homework, microscopic vegetables, or broken glasses.
It's not broken bones, broken bikes or broken hearts.
Or maybe it is.