Sometimes.

Sometimes... 

I get frustrated with that beautiful, squishy baby of mine. Whether it's when she's constantly whining, throwing her food all over my nice, clean outfit, or taking sips of milk only to spit them all over herself, I get frustrated. I tell her to "JUST STOP!" in a slightly louder than usual voice. I like to think I'm not the only mom who has done this, but sometimes... 

I wonder. I wonder if I AM the only one, because no one ever talks about this part of being a mother. They only talk about the lovey dovey things, the things that perfect moms do. Sometimes... 

I wish we could all be real. I wish that, instead of sharing how awesome we all are, we could share how human we all are. We could share that sometimes... 

We snap at other people. Not just our kids or our husbands, either. We all have bad days, we all have those times where we wish we could just hide under the covers all day while someone else took over our responsibilities. If we could all just cut the crap and be real with each other, we would know that sometimes...

(okay, 99% of the time) my house is an absolute disaster. There are laundry piles on the couch, toys strewn throughout the house, piles of dishes in the sink, cereal on the kitchen floor, and unmade beds. I'm not a dirty person, I promise. It's just that sometimes... 

I get overwhelmed. I go to work, I come home, I take care of Elsie and play with her, I wash and fold the laundry, I do a couple dishes, and then Mike gets home. The house looks like an absolute disaster when, in reality, I feel like I've accomplished so much. If I have, though, why is it so difficult for me to see the results of my hard work? Instead of seeing the piles of clean, folded laundry (that were once piles of dirty laundry), I see clutter. I see a mess. I see myself, failing as a wife and mother because the house isn't spotless and dinner isn't cooked and on a perfectly set table. I think that sometimes.... 

We are our own worst critics. I don't know how other people see me, but I like to think that maybe they don't judge me as harshly as I judge myself. How many of us have this problem? How many of us beat ourselves up day after day, thinking that we aren't _____________ enough? Probably a lot of us. Maybe even all of us.

Sometimes I Confess

Happy Sunday!!

I have to say... I wasn't going to do my Sunday confessions today - instead, I was going to do a "sometimes" post, but then I figured out that I could combine the two. Seriously, someone hold me back - my genius-ness is going to get crazy over here.

1. Sometimes I pick wedgies in public. This usually happens at the gym. No shame.

2. Sometimes I avoid people if I think there may be confrontation. I will literally run away from people if I think they're going to confront me about something.

3. Sometimes I can be very confrontational. Usually when my hormones are going crazy (read: PMS) and I've had enough of something (or someone) I flip. And I'm not a very nice person when I flip.

4. Sometimes I dip my french fries in my chocolate milkshake. But only when I remember. It's the perfect blend of sweet and salty. In-N-Out fries and milkshakes are the best for this.

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5. Sometimes I wonder where I'll be in ten years. I wonder how many kids we'll have, where we'll be living, what our financial situation will be like... you know, stuff like that. Then I wonder how important all that stuff is. This train of thought usually happens when it's late and I can't sleep.

Anyone else feel the need to confess?

Sometimes....

I get sick and fall asleep at 7:00pm. This causes me to forget about my blog-child. And then I wake up for work and remember said child. That results in a post like this one.

Peace out, homies.

Why, yes, that is new bedhead. Thanks for noticing.

Sometimes.

What's shakin', bacon? Take this as a reminder to link up tomorrow for my weekly Sunday Confessions! If you have to, go write your post right now!! 

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Sometimes....I wake my husband up with crepes. 
I look for new musicians on YouTube.I debate whether or not I should try lipstick, and tell myself, "No. You would look like a clown."

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I eat Nutella for breakfast.
I think I like cooking, then I regain my sanity.
I scope Blogland for layouts that I like, and make note of them to incorporate elements into future designs. There's so much inspiration out there. 
I go to Deviant Art and search for new brushes and patterns because I'm sick of the ones I have.
I get a little homesick and I miss these peeps (my supercool parental units).

I wake up and say, "Let's take a trip today." Then look at the bank account and see that I haven't been paid, so the trip will have to wait until next weekend. 10 points if you can guess where that is without cheating and following the "via" link. 

viaWhat do you do sometimes?