my own fail whale

I ever wonder if I share too much info with the blogging/twittering world. This last month has been nothing but cruel to us and I can't imagine how all of you on the outside, listening to my daily and hourly complaints about it all must feel. Have I lost followers? Have I allowed my dark and desperate ways to hinder how the blogging world looks at me? The next time I go to an in-person event, will people think I am a whack job?

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't hide how I feel or what goes on in my head at any given moment. I am (what I think is) the typical mother, with typical struggles, and typical problems. I have sick kids, a cluttered home,  too many bills, and not enough time in the day.

I try my best and I often fail. I fail my children, I fail my husband, and I fail myself. Those are the only people who matter. If I fail "the world" or "the blogosphere", I could care less. My first job, my most important job, is within the confines of these 4 walls of my home. My job is never complete.

I have found it difficult to find the beauty of my every day, but I try, every single day to improve that. And at that too, I often fail. But I wake up the next morning, determined to try again.

I'm not good enough for myself, and I am constantly comparing what I do and who I am and how I do it all to other mothers, even though we all talk about NOT comparing and NOT judging, I do do it and I know almost all of you do too.

I want to make a difference. I want to be free. I want to breath without collapsing. My shoulders can only hold so much....