I sit and peruse the internet. I read blogs of people who craft beautiful things. Things I think I could make some day.
I read blogs of people who organize, and in their spare time take beautiful pictures.
I read blogs of people who are professional photographers hoping to glean just a little insight into taking pictures of my own.
I read blogs of people who seem to have time to do everything.
It makes me feel like a failure. I’m a failure because most days I don’t even shower until 2:30pm. A failure because I am not sewing more and baking more and taking better pictures. A failure because I don’t teach my kids enough; my son doesn’t read entire books by himself; my daughter is not dancing her way through life; my baby doesn’t even have any teeth.
It makes me feel like I should be doing more with my time. That I should be planning exquisite dinners and baking delicious cookies for my growing family; that I should be crocheting, sewing, dancing, organizing, and spending quality time with each of my kids. It makes me feel like the things I am doing are just not enough.
I feel like I will never measure up to these other women who do all of these amazing things. And at times it makes me feel like I am a terrible wife and mother.
Then, I catch a glimpse of my cute kids telling their dad all of the things they did that day, and it makes the dishes in my sink, the piles of laundry on my bed, and the toys on the floor disappear. Because, you know what I did that day: I built a fort, I did puzzles, I snuggled and I gave kisses to owies.
Maybe I’m not as much of a failure as I thought…