User post: The very real frustrations of motherhood

My dogs are getting the shaft these days. And, I feel bad about that, really I do. But I'm kind of getting the shaft these days too. I just can't seem to do all the things the rest of the good moms out there can do.

The house isn't really all that clean. Laundry piles up so frequently I begin to wonder just where the heck all these clothes came from in the first place. Spring has sprung just in time for me to look outside and see that all those leaves we never raked last fall didn't disappear, they just sort of moved around and hid under bushes and the stone wall. I still have things I haven't unpacked since moving in last year and convince myself it's a good thing, because we will move again, eventually. Books never make it back to the library before at least two mildly threatening e-mails. Clutter consumes every available nook and cranny in my home and it is no use fighting it.

Thank god we don't have more than basic cable or I fear the television might actually turn into my babysitter while I'm busy somehow not taking care of any responsibilities.

Sometimes I forget to brush my kids teeth at night. Sometimes I forget to wash out their siggs at the end of the day, and I'm knocked over by the smell of sour milk as I grab it from the counter in the morning to fill it with another drink on our way out the door. Sometimes I forget their jackets at home even when it's 25 degrees outside. Sometimes I forget to send my son to school with something to share on his sharing day and have to struggle to find some stupid little thing in the car that he will get even remotely excited about sharing. Sometimes I lose my temper and rant and rave like a madwoman for what cannot possibly be any good reason.

I am late for work more often then my boss would appreciate if he knew. I eat way too much sugar. I have about 40 things on my to do list, and 39 of them won't get done on time if at all. I swear in front of my kids. I don't read to my youngest nearly as much as I should, and I don't play Leggos nearly enough with my oldest. My poor dogs don't even know what a walk is anymore. My husband doesn't know me as his wife, instead he thinks I'm the lady who watches the kids while he's at work then zips off to work when he gets home, and grocery shops and shuttles clutter needlessly and endlessly from one spot to the other and dumps clean laundry on the couch for us all to dig through when we need something to wear.

The pictures you see on my wall of the smiling, happy go lucky extended family are false advertising too. Really I argue with in-laws about child rearing, judge brothers and sisters-in-law for their own child rearing mistakes and even talk about friends problems as if I don't do the same sorts of crazy things when they aren't around. Sometimes I am a little mean to my nephew because, even though he's 4 1/2, he just won't stop bullying my kid. It MUST be something my brother is doing 'wrong'...right?

To top it off, amidst all the chaos and truth of my life, I boast and post pics and send Christmas cards and smile frequently and deny stress to proudly promote 'normal' when I am nothing of the sort.

Or, am I?

The thing is, my life is probably just about as normal as can be. But for some reason the whole world seems bent on putting on masks and pretending that motherhood should be only beautiful and wonderful and joyous and never stressful or crazy or insanity producing. If you should feel those other things, you should promptly take them home and bury them in the backyard. Sure, cry if you must, but do it in the privacy of your own locked bathroom where you won't infect anyone else with your pesky emotions. Well, I'm coming out. I cry sometimes because things are so nuts. I yell sometimes, because I feel like a four year old. I have stress sometimes that makes me want to rip my own head off.

So the next time you are having a bad day, or you're looking around at all the stuff you should be doing while your doing nothing, or you're stomping around like a crazy person because someone just tracked dirt on the floor you-finally!-vacuumed...give yourself a break.

In fact, let's all give each other a break. I, for one, could sure use it.