Woeful Ineptitude

There are days when motherhood is all I can think of. I can’t wait to get home, help with homework, make dinner, read stories, tuck in. And then there are other days. Days like today when I feel woefully inept at making it past the front door without crying. I think about all that needs to be done in the house, all the responsibilities on my shoulders, and it overpowers my mind. And no, it’s not PMS.

I keep thinking about where I went wrong. I have these “should be” thoughts: I should be in a better career. I should be paid higher in a better career. I should be a published novelist. I should have a year’s worth of the mortgage saved. I should have an emergency fund and most of the kids’ college tuition saved. I should have planted vegetables last year. Though the majority lean toward finances, there are lesser ones: I should have cleaned the bathrooms last night. I should have washed the dishes after dinner so that breakfast would have been easier. I should have gotten up on time this morning. I shouldn’t have used leave this week knowing I’ll need it next week. I should pick those clothes up off the floor. Every floor.

The shoulds get me down and try as I might, even with the sun’s help, I can’t seem to permanently get past them.

I wonder about the example I’m setting for the girls. Kids sense when something is amiss; I wonder can they see it on my face — worry lines. Or from the slump of my shoulders — stress.

The worry and the stress and the shoulds are threatening to break me. Or, at the very least, cause tequila to become a more prominent player in my life.

I want to rally against these feelings, say hell no, you won’t take my sanity! And then I think: that’s crazy. You are already crazy. Your thoughts are crazy. Your rationalizations, even your shoulds are crazy.

You. Are woefully inept.

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