Ms. Mommy Poppins: Practically Imperfect in Every Way

Sometimes I think I have more conversations with myself than I do with other people throughout the day. (Does that make me crazy?!!) On the more frustrating days, I have a constant diatribe of arguments in my own mind on what I should have done better. Here are some random samplings from my own brain housing unit: You can't seem to get your preschoolers to school on time? Really? How hard can that be? Other moms seem to do it just fine, and they have more kids than you do. What's your excuse?  You lost your cell phone again? Seriously? Just put it in the same place everyday, depending upon the room you are in, and this won't be a problem. It's that easy.  Ok, lady, who forgets that it's their kids' show and tell day? Oh, you? That's ridiculous. That's more than ridiculous. It's sad. Quite sad. Are you sure you even love your son? By your forgetfulness, apparently not. Do better. P.S.- Running selected object into class ten minutes after the p

Let's be honest here. There are many days as a parent where you just want to cry.  What type of tears, do you ask? Is it the happy tears of watching your daughter at her first ballet recital? Aww... But,nope. Is it the tears of joy when you see your son walk across the stage for his highschool graduation? Again, nope. How about the tears that well up in your eyes when your brood of children are playing quietly together and giggling? That is quite the precious moment which I adore, however, that is not the type of tears I am referring to at this time. Is it the kind of tears where it seems that nothing has gone right all day and you feel like you must be the worst mom ever? Well folks, I think we have a winner! Well, you happen to have caught me on one of those days. Surprise, surprise. ;-)  Here are some clips from my highlight reel that you may relate to: 1) I let my preschool son skip his morning of higher education today only to realize later in the afternoon that it was class

Just another Saturday afternoon at the local children's museum today. You know, the kind where you have a panic attack about three times throughout the funtivities. You start thinking that your child must be abducted, because you can't seem to find the child you claim as your own, amongst sea of colors, flashing before your eyes. (I always try to put my kids in brightly colored clothing to spot them easily, but it seems like other parents must be stealing my memos from iCloud.) It's always a relief when you finally hear a squeal that you recognize in another room, and finally lay eyes on them. Your chest, rises and falls, in a sigh of relief.  Am I the only one who experiences this? We have "only" three. I can't imagine having a greater head count at this stage, but I suppose that the older they get, the more sets of eyes you have to help look out for the little people who like to chase shiny objects in another room. It's difficult to not feel rather cl