Count your blessings....

Last week, Matt and I joined Facebook.

I had a moment of anxiety where I worried what would become of my blog.

Then I remembered why I keep updating this humble blog.

For my kids.

I've always wanted this blog to be as honest as I can make it. I don't want my kids to feel threatened by the idea of "perfect parenthood" like I have so many times.

There are so many days where I just want to sit down and cry. There's never enough mothering to go around. My patience runs dry around lunchtime and the days can sometimes be so long.

I get discouraged when I don't enjoy every minute because everytime you turn around someone is telling you that these are the best days of your life.

So, I blog. I blog hoping that when my kids feel like they're being torn in 16 different ways, they'll know that it's ok to feel fed up.

I know I'm blessed. I love being a stay-at-home mom. I love my kids and I love my husband. I just hate those moments where I beat myself up non-stop because I don't thoroughly enjoy EVERY SINGLE MINUTE.

It was really hard to love the moment when the girls walked in covered in lipstick. 

Then it got even harder to love the moment when I discovered my brand new bedroom set covered in lipstick. 

Then it was sheer torture to love the moment when I saw that my duvet cover had also received a lipstick treatment. 

It took two seconds to post this picture to Facebook. Then, only a few minutes for people to comment and "like it". And for a split second I thought, "Now I won't have to sit down and blog about it."

But no, for my sanity, I needed to sit down and admit that this situation made me mad. I did not find it endearing or even funny (at first). I was downright angry.

After I had a moment to pout about the situation, I started thinking about other parents.

"No other mother would have ever gotten that mad", I thought.

"My kids deserve a mother who would appreciate this experience."

Pretty soon I was telling myself I was awful. "I'm an awful mother. Just horrible".

I don't want my kids to feel that way.

So here it is in writing, I got mad. More mad then I needed to be.

Don't dwell on it. Don't beat yourself up. Count your blessings and just keep doing the best you can.