Trying

I am tired of being a nagging mom. I am sick of hearing myself say to my kids: "Not now, I'm too tired." I'm tired of yelling. I'm tired of listening to my kids yell at each other. I'm weary of feeling like the tail is wagging the dog around here, and the dog is a big grump anyway.

So. I am trying to do things differently today. Two kids home sick...I'm feeling under the weather myself...one toddler-from-hell wreaking havoc wherever she goes. Everyone freaking out at the slightest provocation.

And still. I am trying to go gently through the day, taking time to explain things to the kids when they fight. Taking the time to find tape for the 5 year old, even though I'm writing a blog about trying to be patient and good, and would rather tell her that I can't right now. Trying to approach Mt. Washmore with the right mix of fortitude, efficiency and flexibility. Trying to do the impossible.

I think that's really the job description of motherhood: Get up in the morning and accomplish the impossible.

I just want to arrive at 8pm tonight -- hell, I'll take 4pm -- without feeling like I've been beat up, chewed up, spit out, run through the spin cycle, pushed through a wash board, and mocked by inanimate objects like my laundry pile, my dish pile, my paper piles. Everyone needs to experience success to keep them motivated and engaged in the task at hand: I need some success in the worst way.

I want to be the change I wish to see in my own family, but I don't know how to begin. The only ideas I have are to remind myself to breathe deeply and to drink water instead of another cup of coffee.

Help.

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