Confessions of the Non-Perfect Mommy

So I think it's important to set the standard low, people.  If I'm planning to truly blow you away, I'm going to really have to get you to clap for me when I'm speaking in complete sentences and have brushed my hair...all on the same day!  I'm holding a lot of sticks with spinning plates these days and I'm starting to notice that, in fact, it has taken its toll. 

Somebody told me that adding a third child to the mix wouldn't be a big deal at all.  Whoever you were (and I really can't remember, thanks to sleep deprivation), you lied to me.  And now that I've crossed over to the other side, I know exactly why.  You were suffering, and you needed company. (Nicely done.)  It has quite literally turned my world upside down.  So, here is a glimpse into the life of me...a non-perfect mommy. 

•  I can't make it to work (or anywhere else) on time to save my life.  If I'm 10 minutes late, it's because I literally ran out of the door, shaking babies off my leg left and right and screaming "No! I can't do it! I have to go!"  Otherwise, I'd be 30 minutes late. 
• I can't match a pair of socks for my children without a scavenger hunt.  This makes me late for work.  Every day. 
• I don't understand how people keep up with laundry.  Yes, the answer is clearly to do it every single day.  However, I skipped a week for my sister's wedding, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that we will never recover.  It will be known as laundry-gate 2010 in Garland family history.
• I can't imagine having a meal ready when my husband comes home for dinner.  I tried once a few weeks ago, and I burned the meal, Justin colored his body with a blue marker, Adelai was screaming hysterically and Chase got stuck on the potty waiting for me to help him wipe.  I briefly attempted to hold the baby and cook, but noticed she was really close to the stove.  That's not good, right?  I think I read that somewhere.
• I clean, they mess it up instantly.  I rake leaves, more fall.  I do 3 loads of dishes a day, and always have dishes left over.  It's an Olympic event to check the mail, and they deliver more the next day.  I can't catch up.  
• I work as a mental health evaluator in the emergency room with severely mentally ill people and call that a "break for my own sanity".  What does that say about my life?
• Sometimes I yell.  Sometimes I get it totally right as a mom.  Usually, I'm somewhere in the middle, just trying to survive.  This is usually directly correlated with how much coffee I have had that day.  The more, the better.
• I celebrate Sundays where we get to church at a reasonable time and I haven't muttered a curse word under my breath.  Oh, the irony. 
• If I'm home with the kids and I've showered before Chris gets home, that's a really good day. 

My point is not to out myself as a disaster.  Frankly, that's not a surprise to anybody.  What I really want to say is this:
To all the moms out there who know they are a mess, I remind myself every single day that I've worked with hundreds of broken kids out there and we've talked about what they wanted at home.  It wasn't matching socks.  It was unconditional, unwavering love. 

I look like a freak show, but my kids have that.  And I'll place my bets on that any day.