Ever since I hit publish on my last post -- the one that ends by saying that I am a good mom -- I have felt a little uneasy. Because by "good mom" what I really meant? Is that I try. I try really hard. I am somehow able to push myself much harder as a mom than I ever was able to as a student or employee, and I am grateful for that. But the trying and the pushing includes a lot of doing things the wrong way and totally screwing up and from the outside looking in, a fly on the wall might observe ten minutes of time with me and my kids and think I am a horrible mom. Not a good mom. Not an okay mom. A horrible mom.
I've been humbled a little, this morning, by a dozen muffins worth of crumbs all over my house and a defiant three year old and a newborn who cries whenever he isn't latched on and a two year old who loves to say, "no way mom" and "no I don't think so" whenever possible. I've been humbled by the pants that don't fit and the entire half of a $10 bottle of real maple syrup that is spilled all over inside of my fridge and by my defiant three year old and did I mention my defiant three year old? I try not to talk about his specific behavioral challenges too much on here but lets just say that he has some very specific behavioral challenges. He is wonderful but he is hard. And on some days, my patience disappears earlier than other days. Today I was already getting impatient and not handling him well by 8:30am.
But now we are going to the grocery store and I will get a second wind and the kids will get a second wind and I will keep trying and pushing and messing up and breaking through and tomorrow I will start all over again.