“You're only human. You don't have to have it together every minute of every day.”

Yesterday was just one of those bloody, blah days.  The house was an absolute tragedy.  Report cards needed to be completed.  I needed to attempt to start packing for our vacation.  I went for a run in the 22 degree weather; and 5 minutes in I was about to start googling symptoms of frost bite because I was absolutely sure I was going to lose both thumbs.  And…can I just go back to talking about the house?  I can’t remember the last time I vacuumed, the laundry was an endless pit (seriously, I was sure I would find dead animals in that pile) and I felt like I should just hover over our master bathroom toilet as opposed to sitting on it, in fear of God knows what.  It was one of those days where I couldn’t keep up.  I felt myself drowning, choking on everything that seemed to be weighing me down.

When the evening started to roll around, I was suddenly aware that my children had most likely watched TV all day.  While, I was running around trying to be “mom”, they sat and watched TV.  And they desperately wanted their mom with them.  They would have killed for 20 minutes of attention, not just the 5 or 10 minutes I was willing to give up every hour or so.  Larry came upstairs when I was putting laundry away and he stopped in his tracks.  He could see the emotion on my face.  I was two seconds from breaking down, throwing in the towel, and ugly crying all over his shirt.  I wanted to go to Harps who was calling from my room asking for his “cuddle”.  I wanted to lie with him and just "take him in".  I wanted to lean in and smell him like I just can't get enough.  Because, sometimes I do just that.  I wanted to sit with Mags as she showed me one of her genius creations, whether it was a lunchbox turned into an “apartment for her toys” or a story she wrote about her mother who farts (both very real creations from yesterday).  But, my mind was telling me I HAD to clean.  This was non-negotiable for me.  And on this day, two very tiny hearts suffered.  As did one big heart...mine.

I have a dish towel that hangs on the handle of my oven.  It says “Good moms have sticky floors, dirty ovens, and happy kids.”  While I get the intent of that message, it’s not always that easy.   I would be happy with just a sticky floor.  Hell, I have NEVER cleaned my oven.  Ever.  I don’t even know how.  In actuality, that towel should say: “Good moms have naked children because the laundry is never done, ants because spills are never cleaned, bed bugs because the sheets are never washed, an endless supply of paper products because washing dishes takes too much time, no job because putting in extra hours at home is inconceivable, no social life because the house is not a place to entertain…and happy kids.”  This is reality.  And a really big dish towel.

Not every day is like this, not even close.  Thank God.  And this day shall pass.  It already has.  I have to remember that my good days as a mom, the days I am proud of the wonderful mother I have become, overshadow these bloody, blah days.  But when you’re stuck in this kind of day, all you see is the things you AREN’T being and the things you AREN’T doing.  You just don’t feel like…enough.  Days when I just can’t get my shit together and days when I can’t keep my head above water.  Days when my children fall asleep at night, each possessing and clinging onto their side of Mommy because all they really wanted was me and the time that I had so much trouble sharing with them.  These are the moments and feelings and these are the days that weigh heavy on my heart.

"I don't know where I'm going, but I'm going. Are you coming with me?"

I'm a bit of a social media fanatic. I don't see this as a good thing; in fact, it’s a little nauseating.  I tried to take a break from Facebook for the month of January.  Sort of a New Year's Resolution, if you will.  Mostly, I knew deep down that my children didn't want nor deserve to see their Mommy with her face buried in her smartphone.  (Cherish that last sentence.  It may be the only time you find anything profound written here).  But, to say that I didn't miss it would be a lie.  I never had that "Come to Jesus" moment when I finally found the meaning of life while removing myself from the evils of today’s technology.  Did I enjoy my children more? To be honest, not really. I’m that annoying mother that could NOT enjoy my children any more than I already do.  Even that last statement was irritatingly annoying, but it is the truth.

For me, Facebook has always been a way to share moments with my friends and family.   All 729 of them (totally joking, its 728).  Mostly, moments of hysterical, ridiculous things brought on by my children. Or my husband. Or me. Some families thrive on schedules and routines. Specific naptimes. Baths and stories before bed.  Every night.  Homemade baby food.  Gluten-free and BPA-free and vegan, oh my!  And God bless those that do.  Our family?  We thrive on laughter. On no routine, even though my husband desperately tries.  We thrive on unexpected fits of gut-busting belly laughs at 9:00 at night, an hour after we said the children "had to be in their beds and asleep".  On fast-food runs. Yes fast-food runs when Mommy or Daddy is running late from work. On pizza on Friday nights. On chicken nuggets and hot dogs.  Those moments, that laughter, that “You get on her homework and do the laundry and the dishes, while I make tomorrow’s lunch and help him wipe his hiney”, that frenzied pace…that's what we thrive on.  Sharing those moments with my friends and family, just seems natural.  So now, I might as well just share them even more through this blog.  Doesn’t hurt that it makes my heart happy and puts my mind at ease to write.  In my unorthodox style, naturally.

If you're reading this and expecting every post to be funny, please don't.  If you're reading this and expecting every post to be about my two reckless children, than stop reading right now.  If you read the last paragraph and thought “Well, I have to stick to a schedule.  She must have been insulting my parenting!” Please don’t read anymore. Do yourself a favor.  But before you go, please know that I believe good parents do the best they can with what they have.  We parents (ok, we moms) need to stick together and support each other no matter our parenting style.  But, I may make fun of other parenting styles; although, not as much as I make fun of my own.  And, dear God, if you're reading this and are offended by sometimes crude and vulgar language; for the love of Channing Tatum, please press the arrow in the top left corner. Go back. Leave now.  And after all that, if you're still with me...well, welcome.