HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA *gasp for air* HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
Because for real, man. I feel like a scattered mess
We emailed back and forth a bit, and she did clarify saying that she appreciates that I show the bad days and hard times, but also the wonderful afternoons with sparkles & rainbows (her cute words, not mine :)), too.
And then I felt a little better because I don't ever want to be misleading at all.
Because to be honest, lately I feel a little bit of a mess. Okay, a lot of a mess. And I've been struggling a bit with this mom gig and feeling a bit like I'm losing myself in this whole thing. I think that's one of the reasons I try to take as many photos as I do. It's like this little piece of something I really love to do, that makes me feel like me, and so if I can do that while being mom, too? Fabulous.
Yesterday I attempted to make yarn-covered letters for each of my girls rooms, for their doors. I had these grand plans of how cute and sweet they'd look on their doors, and pictured them being pinterest worthy (totally kidding). Instead, halfway through wrapping (my brains out) the letters, my 2 year old decided to wake up (2 hours early) from her nap. She then found it super fun to drag yarn all over the living room, getting my poor 12lb dog all caught up in yarn, and herself. While I know it sounds funny, it was stressful. Easy things, like a little DIY "fun" turn to poop half the time, and end up being a total fail.
I wish that the Fathers Day rock-painting we did was as whimsical and fun and fancy-free as it looked in pictures. But it totally wasn't. I'm embarrassed to admit that even though I was an elementary art teacher getting messy with 30 kids at a time, it stressed me out to paint with my 2 year old. It resulted in her painting not only herself, me, her new picnic table, but also the outside screen on the window (seriously?) AND my nice camera. It was short lived. Not magical and bonding as I'd pictured. And I'm still picking dried paint off the body of my Canon. Really.
Sometimes? It absolutely feels like the end of the world when sleep times don't go as planned. I feel tense when I hear a whine or cry from her bedroom when she should still be sleeping because I just want some time to do my job for work, or get some things done around the house, or just sit on my butt for a few minutes and eat my lunch by myself. I pray, more than I should, to please God let her fall back asleep, oh please.
I wish I handled pregnancy with grace but I really don't. I'm honest when people ask me how I'm feeling. I should probably just be all, "I'm great, so blessed!"-but yea, not always the case. I grunt and huff and puff a lot (more around the house than anything), and let out a lot of exasperated sighs during the day. I am at the peak of hormone-rampage-madness right now and I know that I am in an awful mood most the time. I fear meeting new people during this time because I don't want them thinking this is my permanent 'tude, because pregnancy hormones do mess with me. A lot. I wish I could say this is the best I've felt in my life, but that would be a complete and utter lie, and I hate lying.
My house is pretty much always a mess. I'm good at keeping it neat (to a degree), but clean? It is not. I'm pretty sure I have an ant invasion in my foyer right now because of some crumbs that came from a certain little person, and I haven't really done much about it. Other than stomping them when I see them. So there's that.
I wish I could dream up great meal ideas and execute them like so many of you do, but I can't. It intimidates me to no end and I don't like being in the kitchen cooking. At all. I stick to the few things I know and more often then not it involves my husband coming home from work and grilling for us anyway. That wife who has dinner all prepped and on the table when her hard working husband gets home from work? Oh yea, that's not me.
I have a short little fun things to do list (aka: kill time with your toddler before naptime), and it's not even that good. It involves the same few parks, Target, playing on the deck, Chick-fil-a, swinging/playing on the patio, taking a walk, blowing bubbles or doing sidewalk chalk. And I'm pretty sure my kid is bored to tears with it already and it's only June.
I have season passes (thanks to gifts) to multiple fun locations and I haven't used many of them recently because I'm just too tired to do/plan/attend half day trips like that. No real excuse other than that. I feel guilty about it all the time.
All this to say, I suck and fail at this thing all the time. I'm not trying to be all woe-is-me, because I will totally own it. Yes, I have days of being all I was an awesome mom today, but not often, and not a ton recently if I'm being honest.
I get flustered, I get tired, I want alone time, I'm not nice to my husband, I say things I regret, I don't act appreciative when I should, I am not always slow to anger, I need more patience, I need more creativity, and I certainly don't treasure every single moment or feel mushy-gushy about life all the time.
What I do know is that no matter what, I'm still grateful, and in the midst of this I know that mothering, and growing humans, and all that jazz this phase of life brings--will always be a time in my life I look back on with a full heart. Because despite the fact that it can all be draining and leave me feeling less than perfect most the time? It's also oddly fulfilling.
And that mystery is one I'll never fully understand.