so why does it seem like everyone expects me to be perfect. Kent wants a chocolate birthday cake with vanilla frosting and sprinkles. Everyone expects me to be able to do what is impossible. I made the cake last night. I knew I should clear and set the table and wash the dishes when I sat down last night at 8pm after the girls were all in bed and the cake was out of the oven, but I was exhausted before, I ever go supper on the table last night.
But this is what my kitchen looked like this morning.
I've spent much of the morning just trying to get on top of things. First off I had to get Kent breakfast. We usually do something special for birthday breakfasts, but with a kitchen like that, it wasn't going to happen. It still took me 45 minutes to get the table cleared and a special place set for him, so I could take his special place setting picture with him. By the time I had breakfast poured for Katy and Kaomi, Felicity was done eating, so I had to watch her, until she could go down for nap time (no chance to work in the kitchen then, she needs constant supervision/chasing right now). By this time I was in tears, I know that Kent isn't getting the birthday cake he wanted, my kitchen is a mess, and I know that it will probably still be a mess when I get home and have to cook supper this evening. We have other things planned today and I no longer have time to make the icing and frost his cake. I wrapped his presents. At least that got done. I cleared the dish rack. I washed two loads of dishes in the dish washer, and still don't have anywhere to make frosting. I managed to get a load of laundry in the washing machine, too. The kids don't understand why mommy is crying, they think I'm supposed to be perfect too. They don't understand when I say I don't have time to do everything that I am supposed to do. Felicity is crying, she still hasn't taken a nap and she keeps throwing everything out of her bed, including her favorite rags. Right now she just has a frog that she is hugging and her blanket. I'm already exhausted and there aren't many opportunities for naps around here and even if I do start to fall asleep I get woken up. Mommy is expected to be available anytime someone "needs" her no matter what she is doing. I never was perfect and I never will be so why, oh why, am I expected to be prefect. God is perfect. I definitely am not God. I guess I should be "counting it all joy" that I am not perfect, but I'm finding that kind of hard to do right now.