I am a failure of epic proportions.
That sentence has been replaying itself in my head for days now. I don’t say those words with sadness or shame. I usually hear them inside and smile. I giggle at the fact that I truly am a huge failure.
I am an entrepreneur, a loving wife, an energetic mother of three boys, a good friend and a beloved (grand) daughter. I am the photographer for our family’s archive and the recorder of antics. For my siblings I am the memory keeper and the laughter incubator. I am an occasional knitter, guitar player and a constant singer. I am so many things and still, an epic failure.
I am notorious for making dinner just in time for us all to have to leave before we eat. I have locked myself out of my office three times in the last six months. I dropped my son off at school this week on a day that there was no school…and DROVE AWAY!
Thank God for conferences…. and cell phones.
I have forgotten my son’s sippy cup on many occasions. My cell phone is never charged completely and I always put off getting oil changes. A fantastic combination. I have yelled at my kids. I have called my husband and idiot and an asshole. Yep, I cussed him. I did it. I can admit it.
I am not perfect.
I remember my ideas of marriage and family were so different when Paul and I first started out. Antiquated and naive, I thought I would confidently serve my family a healthy meal every night after a day of making my home perfect. I would mold my children to be honest Christ followers that were placed firmly on the road to success. My husband would honor me and be proud of my domestic abilities.
I was smoking crack.
I must have thought that we were going to live in this bubble where the chaos of life would be filtered through my colander and then vacuumed up in my Dyson.
Instead, I live in a world where these rules apply;
- If you are on time, for once in your motherly career, a diaper will explode. I don’t know where or when, but it will and there will be poop.
- The spill-proof sippy cup will spill, everywhere.
- Your husband will roll over one night, as you are getting into bed and ask you if you could possibly have clean boxers ready for him by tomorrow morning. (or something equally moronic)
- You will forget that it’s picture day.
- The toilet will overflow for many reasons. (This week, it’s because while my son was fixing it or clogging the tank with toilet paper and the bowl runneth over)
- You will forget to write that check, pick up or drop off that thing and the world will fall off of it’s axis.
- You will not remember your pap smear is scheduled in time to shave your legs.
- It will be all your fault.
- You can never watch them enough.
- It will never be all cleaned up.
This is life. This is life with a husband, three kids, two cats and a hyperactive dog. It’s exhausting, disorganized, unexpected and uncomfortable. It is miles outside of my comfort zone and a constant learning experience. I am thankful for the selective amnesia, earned lessons and epic failures. I am certain that at the end of my life I will have lived many adventures. I won’t be afraid of failure. That’s the one thing I have completely mastered.
When my sugar lump child looks up at me and says, “Mom, your a star.” failure is a small price to pay. Even if it means cleaning poop off the wall.