Do you know what I have achieved today?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I had plans. Oh, I had such grand plans. Home cooked meals from scratch, happy children playing harmoniously, a tidy and welcoming house for the husband to come home to.
And then I remembered: I actually do have real-life children.
My house looked like a giant toddler smashed through and spewed clothes and toys everywhere (that may or may not be what literally happened). There isn’t enough room – or clean anything – to fry an egg, let alone cook from scratch. I spent an hour trying to get the baby to sleep this afternoon, and failed miserably. I spent that hour listening to the two older children fight about who’s where on the couch, and threatening to send them to their rooms. In fact, in the end I totally lost my jam and sent them off seperately.
Part of me feels like I should send my husband a voucher or refund on his wife.
A card that reads “Whoops! Should have married the other one!” Oh well, too late now for you, Mr. Wifekins.
Fast forward an hour or so and the house is quiet (enough). Boo is watching television, Smasher raged himself to sleep, and I finally managed to breastfeed the baby into a milk-coma. I’ve eaten approximately five thousand carrot and zucchini muffins.
As I brush off the evidence from my jeans I realise my mistake: my standards are all wrong. I’m measuring my success by someone else’s abilities. I’m expecting myself to perform at a much higher level than my circumstances allow. Of course that’s going to end in tears and a lack of baked goods.
So I may not have been super-productive. There may be no wonderfully insightful articles written, nor any incredible crochet creations whipped up. My house may not be tidy. I may not have the opportunity to cook. Should I therefore write myself off as a failure?
Are the children fed? Tick.
Are they somewhat clean? Tick.
Are they reasonably happy? Tick.
Will the husband actually care what he comes home to? Probably not.
Did you survive another day? Yes, yes I did.
I’m pretty sure that’s all that matters.
And if I can find moments like this in a day, I guess it’s not all that bad.
Cheerio. I’m off to bake muffins.