Failing sucks. And lately, I feel as though I'm failing miserably as a mother. I just wish I could go back and un-do it all, and start over. Start fresh. I suppose that would take the entire journey away, and that's what parenting is: a journey. I wish I could've been more prepared for its ups and downs. And for the times that there are so many more downs than ups. I just want happy children, and one of them never seems to be happy. Can you guess which one?
I also just wish I would stop letting the chaos get to me and take it like a grown-up, instead of throwing tantrums like my 3 year old. Where is the June Cleaver in me? Why can't I just stand there in my apron and pearls and fancy up-do and say "Well dear, when you're done throwing matchbox cars at me and your sister, you can join us for supper." Instead I get so angry at him for acting like a 3 year old. Because you know, he's THREE.
How do teen parents do it? You know, those 16 year olds that pop out several kids. I'm 32 and can barely keep it together. I'm sure they don't have it together either, but at the moment, everyone else seems so much better off than we are...
Off to snuggle with the one who never seems to be happy. Hoping for better days to come. It's all I can do.