When I saw this story, about a Houston-area mom who left her 8- and 10-year-old kids at a Cy-Fair fire station, my first instinct was to get all judgy (and then my next instinct was to start giggling like a madwoman). I mean, this woman apparently left the kids at the station, told them she couldn’t deal with them anymore and to come back when they grow up, and drove off.

But.

 I've had days where I have called my husband and informed him that I am running away from home and/or putting the child up for sale on eBay. And I am only half-joking. There are certainly days where I am at the end of my rope — and I am lucky enough to have a generally really sweet kid, supportive partner and nearby family and friends to take some of the pressure off when I feel like I can’t deal for one more second.

While I can pretty definitively draw the line at leaving children to the mercy of kindly firefighters, I can’t say I have never had thoughts cross my mind that are best characterized as less than serene, gentle or motherly. And if you can say you never have, well, must be nice to be perfect.

Police and child welfare workers were questioning the mom and her children separately, to make sure the kids are safe. I hope so, and I hope the mom can get the help and support she needs to be a better parent. And I hope the kids get through this whole experience without being too scarred.

But what I really hope is that I can avoid getting to that point myself.