Not a Good Day

Lexi told me tonight I look tired. Tired, yes. Frustrated, yes. Exhausted, definitely. It has been one of "those" days.

I was at work by 7:00 this morning, home by 10:00, helping a friend with a project from 10:00 until 2:00 (while taking care of all four kids), back at work by 2:15 (with three kids in tow), and home again by 3:30. By 5:30 supper was in the oven, and by 6:30 the four kids and I had eaten, cleared the table, unloaded and loaded the dishwasher.  Since then I have fed and bathed Morgan, fought with Lizzy, argued with Jake, talked to a telemarketer, washed, folded and put away a couple of loads of laundry, and fought back tears at least a dozen times.

The tears are tears of frustration. I am frustrated that I am not a better mother. They are tears of desperation. I am desperate to figure out a better way to get through to my kids. They are tears of guilt. I feel guilty that I am not more patient with my kids. And they are tears of exhaustion. I am physically and mentally drained. My eyes hurt, my head hurts, and my heart hurts. This has not been a good day.

I know it is just one day. Things will get better. I am not writing this in hopes of getting sympathy. I am writing this in hopes of finding peace. This is my life.  There will be good days, and there will be bad days. All I can do is pray that tomorrow is one of the good days.