Mom Fails

So I've been really really busy lately. So busy that sometimes I feel that my kids aren't getting enough attention. :/ Between work and work and work and cleaning and more work and driving around and picking people *coughHubscough* up and dropping people off, it just gets to the point where what little time I have I need "Me" time.

That being said, I don't know how much more attention my kids need. They're bathed, I played with them, they smell pretty good (for boys) and they eat all of their meals around the same time every day. We roll around on the floor sometimes and occasionally we do fun things like go to a festival or visit Santa or what-have-you... so although I feel like I'm failing, or maybe just flailing, I can't pinpoint exactly where it's coming from. Do you ever feel that way?

My kids are happy, healthy, well taken care of (more by their awesome Aunt E-Betty day-to-day it seems) and crazy sadistic little maniacs, but I'd have it no other way. They're rough and tumble boys. They are who they are and I love every fibre of them.

So then why do I feel so crappy? Because I take a few minutes to space out on the couch every now and then when I could be teaching them quantum physics or something? Because I don't always feed them the healthiest most nutritious things I could? Because I compare myself to other Moms? Maybe. 

I feel like I'm not patient enough. That sometimes my priorities get out of whack because I have seventeen-gillion things on my to-do list and I can only cross so many off per day. That if I can just get Cash to GO THE F*CK TO SLEEP (love that book!) when he's supposed to we'll both be better off. He'll be less cranky and I'll be more productive. That if I can just dot all the T's and cross all the I's and make sure everyone who needs something from me is taken care of that all will be well.. but it never is. Nothing is ever enough. Maybe I need more support? Maybe I need someone telling me that they see how hard I'm working and that they understand that I'm doing it for my family, so maybe rushing through my days isn't so bad.

I don't know. I feel like I don't know anything some days.

At the end of those days, I still have a house, two babies who I adore, a full belly and a handful of people who truly love me. So I'm a pretty lucky duck. Maybe I should start counting my blessings instead of my failures and call it a day, No?!