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Confession.

You know when you really want to get your shit together but you just can’t? That’s this blog. I want to blog, really, I do. I just can’t seem to get myself to do it because there are 539 things that seem to need my attention first. And sometimes at the end of the day, a girl just wants to watch some trashy TV that doesn’t require her to think or give one ounce of a shit. Truthfully, even my beloved Housewives have been put on the back burner (Forgive me BH ladies, I love you and all your ridiculousness.) and that pisses me off more than this blog.

I think it’s pretty easy to lose yourself once you become a mom. Maybe this doesn’t happen to everyone but sometimes it’s hard for me to remember who I was before I had kids. Lately I feel like I’ve lost sight of all of the things that are important to me, things that I love (outside of these punks) and how to make sure they remain a part of me. There are times that I feel that I am missing a part of my life that belongs solely to me. I love being a mom – it’s the greatest gift I’ve been blessed with so this isn’t about wishing I didn’t have kids – but finding the balance between being a mom and still being my own person is challenging.

Can it even exist? I can’t even make it to my beloved yoga class three days a week on a regular basis. I love yoga. Love it. And yet, making it happen for myself is as challenging as potty training the two year old, who apparently loves crap in his pants as much as I love yoga. Why do I feel guilty about taking time for myself, for the things I want to do? Pinterest has me believing that good moms work on crafts daily, bake with their children regularly, host weekly family campouts in the living room, spend every waking moment with their kids and make everything from scratch, and I’m not talking about dinner. I’m not that mom. I’m okay with not being that mom but sometimes I just want to flip that mom the bird from all of us who aren’t her.

I’m not perfect. Far from it. Some days I barely have enough patience to get through breakfast before I am losing my shit. Some days I forget to add lunch money to the kids lunch accounts. Some days I treat myself to a good old fashion meltdown of my own. I’m sarcastic. I’m snarky. Sometimes I’m just a bitch (ask my husband, he can vouch). Sometimes I like to have drinks with my friends over having a campout with my punks. I cuss, sometimes in front of little ears *GASP* and sometimes I think my punks can be a-holes. My life isn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. My punks aren’t perfect. I won’t sugarcoat the fact that some days just suck ass.

So that’s it. I just want to find a way to take care of me, too. To allow myself the time I need to be me, without guilt. To find a balance between being mom and being my own person. To give myself time for yoga and to write and to do what I want to do, even if it is watching trash TV. This not being able to get my shit together is exhausting. I’m out of whack, running around in circles chasing something I can’t quite find and getting nothing done. So, here’s to figuring it out. And here’s to getting the smallest punk to crap in the toilet.

One Comment

  • TacoDave on Mar 22, 2013 Reply

    Yep. That about sums it up. I keep thinking “In five years, all of the kids will be in school, and *then* I can finally have time for myself.” Yeah, right.

    But in 17 years, they’ll all (hopefully) be out of the house and I can relax at the ripe old age of 54.

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