There’s a Hole in My Bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza
undestanding mental illness: If you ever went to camp as a child, singing delightfully annoying songs around a campfire, perhaps you can remember an especially irritating song with the ever repeating phrase “there’s a whole in my bucket dear Liza, dear Liza, dear Liza, a hole”. Of course, the even more annoying answer follows unerringly,”well fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it”. What the Lizas of the world don’t know, is that in order to maintain good mental health, the buckets of our lives need many holes in them.
The Joy of Mothering