The Post Wherein I Get Real

You know how sometimes blogs tend to paint really pretty pictures about people's lives? And then sometimes we feel like crap because unlike blog-life, we actually struggle with things and our kids aren't perfect (even though we are)? I think I'm pretty good about complaining to make sure you know that my life is far from perfect. But just in case you doubt, I present the following evidence.

I spend way too much time checking email/Pinterest/Google Reader when I should be playing on the floor with my boys. I wish I liked floor-play more, but I don't. So I find excuses to avoid it. Too bad that Rhett's old enough to start noticing.

When meal planning, I tend to feed my own wants and tastes rather than those of the other members of my family. Outwardly I say it's because I want them to expand their palettes, try something new, eat healthily...but really I'm just making food I like. Of course, should they actually request something, I'd (probably) do it.

I am selfish with my time. My boys go to bed at 7 every night. Even if staying up means they get to enjoy beautiful weather and fireflies, we still put them down. Why? Because I need time without them. And I don't like to spend these evening hours doing things for the family (like grocery shopping or chores). It's MY time, but I wish I wasn't so selfish with it.

I can be hypocritical in my marriage. I hate this one about me, but there it is. I expect way more from Chuck than he does from me. Things I wouldn't let him get away with (e.g., junk left on a bathroom counter), I do all the time without one word from Chuck. Yes, he probably doesn't even notice, but I do and I feel crappy about it every time. Just not crappy enough to fix it.

I have very little self-control when it comes to eating. This amazes me since I'm so good at making myself run, but I can't just eat one cookie. Or two. Or six. If it's my snickerdoodles, it's more like 10. It's really bad.

I lose my temper faster than I want with Rhett. "What, you don't want to go to the bathroom before bed and your brother is already asleep in your room and I know you're going to throw a fit because I won't let you have water and it's already past 7 and I'm done being a mom? What? That's right: I'm gonna throw you in my bed and shut the door. When you want to go to the bathroom, you may have your water bottle and book and go to bed." Yeah, this happens more than I care to admit. I will say that some nights, after we've both apologized to each other for our respective freakouts from that day, Rhett and I make deals that we will try harder the next day. I want to be better; I know Rhett wants to be better. But better is hard.