You are enough.

It never fails.
It is such a struggle every evening.  Pick up kids, and no more than five minutes in the door, someone (or both) have sat in a time out.  For pushing, talking back, screaming at each other, for not sharing.  It's those five minutes that I dread the most.  Sure, I haven't seen you all day, so I am going to sit your ass in a timeout already.  Go ahead, make me feel like I am the worst mom, ever. What am I doing wrong here?  Why are those five minutes always the hardest?

Don't get me wrong.  They get along, most of the time.  But there is something about just getting home that sets off their "lets make mommy as mad as we can" button.  It's always one of a handful of things that results them in getting in trouble.  So why do they continue to do it? Why does A feel as if she can snatch something away from her little bro.  Why does Mase think it's ok to chase Alyvia with a screwdriver Daddy left on the counter (for over a week may I add).  Why are there STILL dishes in the sink? Didn't I do those last night?  What is the damn point in folding all this laundry when it gets unfolded by a terror of a two year old, or that will just end up on the floor in a bedroom anyway?  Mac and Cheese for dinner it is.  You know, because by this time, it's 6:30 and I don't. have. time. to make a three course meal.  Sure Mase, smear that cheese ALL OVER YOUR FACE. And put another hole in the toy basket that was only $10.  What's that? The trash bill is late and they didn't pick up our trash? Great.  I guess the smell will fit right in with these stinky dishes.  Go ahead, Alyvia, totally ignore the fact that I asked you to pick up your damn toys FIFTEEN TIMES.

I beat myself up over days like this over, and over, and over.  Why couldn' God have given me a third arm so I could read to my kids and do the dishes at the same time?  Are my kids deaf? I just need them to cooperate this ONE night.  Am I failing here?  I just feel like I am.  Like, I don't give them 100%, 100% of the time.  I can't.  My body, emotions, attitude just cannot do it every second of every day.  Is that wrong of me?  Do I need to ask for help? Why couldn't my husband be one of those dads home at 6 and still be able to pay the bills.  Do they know I love them? Am I paying enough attention?  Do they have enough books, clothes, food?  Why does THAT mom look like she has it all together- all. the. time. WHY CAN'T I?

We create these expectations based on what everyone else is doing.  Not based on your own life.  Not every kid is the same.  Not every family has the same schedule, struggles, and needs.  I need to remind myself that what I do is enough.  The mac and cheese dinner one (er, twice) a week is enough when you just can't clean up another dinner mess that night.  Reading them a book every night may be nice, but may not always happen.  Timeouts MAY happen more than you want them too.  Siblings willl bite, hit, scratch and take away.  Your trash will smell.  You will cry.  You are enough.

{Shew, I needed to vent.}