Work was crazy yesterday filled with drama which thankfully was nothing to do with me. I got home crazy tired as usual for a Friday, with packing for the snow to be done. This is where the day went completely south! My girls had packed there bags and I seconded guessed them being pack properly for cold conditions. My thoughts were confirmed when I find minimal clothes in one bag, summer outfits in another and dirty socks with umteen jackets in the third bag! My sense of control was lost and the yelling began over what the hell were they thinking.
Then the guilt came as an aftermath. I had screamed like a lunatic, maybe even dropped the F bomb which I am not proud of. Tears streamed down my face as I hide in my bathroom trying to figure out how other mothers do it. How do they be everything to everyone? How do they never loose their crap? How they juggle work, family and the house and still have time for themselves?
The girls, like most kids I imagine, were sorry but didn't really understand why mummy was not happy. They went to bed all still saying I love you and I went to bed feeling like to worst mummy ever. Sleep came to me with some strange dreams which I expected. We awake to head to the snow and the girls act as though nothing has occurred only 12 hours earlier. They laugh and giggle and snuggle into us when they get up.
My heart is happy they seem to still love me but my head struggles trying to work out how to fix my short comings. But how? I'm human and kids/parenting doesn't come with a handbook. So as I sit here and turn and look at my girls all reading or singing I know that sleeping on it and letting go is how you have to handle the guilt of not being amazing all the time. Next stop snow fields.
