The success of my day is not measured by how much I get accomplished.

I’ve had to repeat this to myself today. I’m not quite sure I believe it. Especially since the kids have been fighting all day, I’m really tired, and it took every ounce of energy I had just to stick a roast in the crock pot and push the power button. To top it off, ants have been discovered for the third time since the first annihilation.

At this moment, Noah is screaming bloody murder (really, no exaggeration) because I won’t give him a Starburst. You see, I need to go to the grocery store. The kids had a good lunch of leftover chicken, rice, green beans and a couple of my tater tots each. The tater tots were my lunch because there wasn’t enough of the good stuff for the three of us. After I made a second batch he accused me of eating ALL of the tater tots because I wouldn’t give him one. And now, I’m rounding off my meal with a few Starburst. He is livid because he can’t have one.

I love my Noah. He’s a turkey. I don’t always say that with affection. He’s hard. I’ve noticed that he isn’t difficult for other people and I appreciate that, but most of the time this child gives me a new understanding for why a parent would even begin to consider locking their child in the closet with duct tape over their mouths. *gasp* I know all of you are perfect parents and have never thought of doing such a thing. Sometimes I get this little mental patient chuckle to myself picturing the comical things I would never do to my children. And it’s only comical because I would NEVER do it.

Just the other day they were complaining about something. They are really good at complaining and I’ll be teh first to take full blame. I pictured myself walking into the kitchen and bonking their heads together like on the Three Stooges. Then telling them that they don’t really have anything to complain about because they don’t have parents walking around bonking their heads, like I just did, all the time. I think it would be an effective method to stop the complaining.

I would never do it, cause I have a sensor within that causes me to love my children and tells me when I need to go outside for a time-out, but the thought can be therapeutic at times. 😉 Sometimes I get so lost in the thought of silence, it helps me to tune out the screaming, the whining, and the complaining. With all their wonderful qualities, that my kids are so great at putting on for others to see, I have the joy of seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly. The over-dramatized screaming and crying. The fights, the complaining, the whining. I just roll my eyes inside when people say my kids are perfect (aside from the fact that it’s usually in the tone of one of those complements that isn’t really a complement–like, “nice shirt”). My kids are hard work, just like anyone else’s.

The success of my day is not measured by how much I get accomplished.

How am I supposed to measure a successful day?

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