Oh wait. No one's really like all that, you say?
Funny, 'cause somehow that's exactly how I expect ME to be. And for some odd reason I've tricked my mind into thinking all those other women out there are doing it. And doing it without much effort.
Let me tell you something about me:
- I'm 22 weeks pregnant and I drink Starbucks and Pepsi whenever I can. I have to.
- I snuggle and read bedtime stories to my children like the perfect mother, but will yell in a heartbeat when they get out of bed asking for a (insert bedtime request here). It's like I lose all patience after magical story-time ends.
- I like cooking boxed macaroni and cheese for my kids when it's just us for lunch. And I like eating it too. I have never looked at the sodium per serving, and probably never will.
- I'm frightened about having my third child because I don't feel like a good enough mom. I am not sure how everyone will cross the street when there are three times as many of them as there are of me. And I will soon be lacking a 1-to-1 ratio on arms to children.
- Sometimes (like now) I sit in the middle of a trashed living room and instead of picking up the dirty laundry, pillow forts, sippy cups, and toys, I sit in the middle of it all to check Twitter and Facebook because I can. And selfishly, I want to.
I'm not sure why I'm telling you all of this. Maybe I just needed to get it off my chest. I'm not the perfect woman, and I don't think I mind all that much.