9:00 PM

     There's quite a lot of things you pick up on being a mom, and I've only been at this gig for a little over four years now, so if I've learned this much so far, I can't believe what else life has in store. Mommin is hard. In all ways, shapes and forms. You run on little to no sleep, and your pee constantly smells like coffee. You opt for pony tails over your once bouncy curls, and painting your nails seems like a foreign concept. Sure I can't speak for every mom out there, and if you have flawless hair and beautiful nails, you are a freaking superstar. Some of us, just, suck.

     Ok, ok.... this isn't a post reaming myself for all the things I think I should be doing or things I think I'm failing at. It's actually the total opposite. Confused? I mean me too, clearly. The other day I was doing dishes and thought to myself..... "I'm a damn good mom." Really, I know I am. I've got two adorable little munchkins that remind me of that every day, and no matter how perfect my nails could look or lush my hair could be, would replace the feeling of accomplishment I have when I look at my kids. I haven't always been good at things though, and this new level of success is a key reminder.

     Fun fact, I was held back in fourth grade. My mom blames herself and says I was too young and started kindergarten too soon, (summer baby) and the level of embarrassment I felt about all of that, even at a young age, is still something I can feel to this day. I, failed.

    Sports were never a thing for me. I was terrible at everything I tried, and the middle school setting of gym class wasn't exactly the best encouraging factor. By sixth grade, I accepted the defeat, and gave up trying to actually participate. I was there, but I wasn't really there. Same with my grades. I sat in class, paid as much attention as I could, but it was always a struggle for me. I still remember turning something I thought I worked hard on in, to be handed it back several days later with a D on it. I'd quickly shove it into a book like it never happened. It was as if there was this invisible wall I couldn't get over, and everyone else had special climbing gloves and shoes. No matter how high up that wall I got, my lack of preparedness would have me slipping all the way back down.

    Now I didn't fail at everything. I was a terrific friend, a listener, and met so many wonderful people in my formative years. Many of which I think about on a daily basis. I still chat with some, but not as much as I wish, and if I had to ignore all the glum parts of growing up, the relationships, the memories, surely out-way any kind of disappointment I had with myself. This was a quality that fortunately followed me to college, where I had some of the best times of my life, and, unfortunately, some of the worst. I could feel my mind slipping again just as it had before and just like that I felt like I shouldn't be there. That every time I tried, something else was trying harder to see me fall back down that wall. College ended with me feeling like I did back in 4th grade. Defeated.

     I spent the longest time feeling like I was stupid. Why wasn't I grasping things that others were? Why was this so easy for my friends? I'm far from "'dumb," and it took me too long to recognize this isn't an intelligence thing, it just wasn't what I was meant to do with my life.

BABIES. I found out I was pregnant with our daughter the summer before I would have been a junior in college. Mentally I'd already given up, I didn't know what else there was for me, and everything I once saw for my life had drastically changed with those two pink lines. I took every day with Penny as a lesson. I figured out how to make her happy, what foods she liked, her favorite toys, and for the first time I was doing something right.

     During that particular dish washing fest, I realized something crucial to my current state of happiness. I'm a damn good mom. ME! Who would have thought that? I'm a great mom, because I sucked at so many other things in life, and how could I be upset about that? See if I hadn't failed here and there, my life wouldn't be what it is today. I might never have met Joshua, and our two wonderful kids might cease to exist. That's a reality I'm happy to live without.

    I believe those who have always been great at everything are missing out. I know moms that look at their kids like a math problem. They see life as they have always been great at everything, so why is their baby screaming bloody murder in the middle of Target? For someone who has always been successful at everything they've tried, motherhood is like a swift kick in the lady bits. No matter how hard all of this gets, I know I'm good at it, and I truly think that it took sucking at things that made me the woman I am today. So, fellow mom, or just someone cool who took time to read this big long rant about all the ways I failed myself, maybe we fail at things to remind us how awesome we are when we find something that we flourish in? Motherhood, that's certainly what I was always meant to do.

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