She says "misery loves company", that's why I should have a baby too. But I see her. I catch her in these moments. She doesn't wish it was another way. Not really. She gripes about being taken for granted, about vomit on her good sweater, about the pushed out lips and ingratitude, the whining and wanting something else for dinner, the boots she doesn't buy in order to pay for private school, that "the boy" and "that girl" want to do what they want to do and not what she says. She's got a whole routine about it that will make you laugh all night.
But she is a mother. She knows keenly who she is. She loves more fiercely than most can see.