A good day?

Yesterday was a good day.

A day where I had a list of accomplishments.

• I read several gazillion books with the children.


• The children "swabbed the deck" and had a great time, though I'm not sure the floor was much cleaner, just very wet.


• We pulled out the instruments and had a fun music time.


• We did an art project, which is huge for me - most kiddy art times take me to the edge of my sanity, searching the pantry for any and all chocolate to calm my nerves.


• I vacuumed all the rugs downstairs, with the exception of the one Matt was standing on when he forgot he was wearing big boy undies and not a diaper.


• I successfully ran an errand with the three kids in tow and had fun playing at the park afterwards.


• We walked the dog, which is becoming increasingly more challenging as the thick clouds of mosquitos are leaving their marks all over us whenever we take our evening walks.


• And we received eight boxes in the mail.

All in one day!

I should be ecstatic. I should feel satisfied in a job well done.

But I cannot. I cannot get past the things that cause me to be less than wonderful at this mommy-ing job.

• I know I can’t be perfect but shouldn’t I at least brush their teeth?


• Except for the scrambled eggs at breakfast, I filled them with canned, frozen and otherwise processed food.


• My sink and kitchen counter overflowed with dirty dishes. And since I’ve already told you I didn’t cook much, you can guess that they’ve been there awhile.


• I broke the digital camera.


• I neglected the baby, who seemed to be so happy playing in that laundry basket and it was several minutes before I realized I hadn’t heard from her in awhile. (Insert very cute picture of Moriah sleeping in laundry basket... but, well, see above) Oh, and that laundry, while at least clean and folded, has sat in that same spot for several days.


• I let the children watch television several times during the day. (We have cable now - shocking, I know!)

I feel terribly guilty for all the things I do wrong. Am I ruining my children?

Will I ever be that super Mommy? I doubt it, but I also doubt that worrying is the right thing to do. Lane is always reminding me of that. But it’s hard for us moms, right? We want the absolute best for our children.

We want to be the absolute best for our children.