Missing stories about me failing at life?

Well, let me remedy that.

So, I kept telling myself while I was pregnant with Vivian that I was probably worried about juggling 3 kids far more than I needed to be.  After all, two wasn't nearly as bad as I thought.

I could not have been more wrong.

Three is far worse than I thought.  And I think mostly it is to do with the timing.  At least that is what I'm telling myself to make myself feel better about how poorly I am managing all of this.

Timing as in: kids born 15 months apart...just don't.  Ever.  Just. Don't.

And: Fiance now has a job that leaves him less than available for helping out very much.

And: I'm getting old and tired and my energy is rapidly dwindling.

People keep asking me how it is to be back at work.  

Um, it's amazing.  All those times I was banging on about not being cut out to be a stay at home mom?  OMG, so. so. right.  But just for funsies, I make myself feel guilty about it - about not being desperate to stay home with my children every day and about being relieved to be back at work and about not shedding a single tear when I dropped any of them off on Monday and raced like mad to Dallas and an office building with my quiet, quiet office to do my job which I actually feel like I'm pretty good at.

That is the thing though about me staying at home with them.  I felt like an unaccomplished failure every, single day.  Every day.  Over and over again, things would just fall apart and I'd sit on the couch and cry and be mad at my baby daddies for giving me my perfect, healthy, amazing children who I love with all of my heart and mad at my children for just, you know, being kids and doing kid things.  I even had a melt down at my OB's office right as she walked into the room (obviously catching me in the melt down) and made her question whether or not I had post partum and needed medication.  My response: "Honestly, I think I just need to go back to work."

Mostly, that is true.  Jimmy has been floored by the change in me.  I feel like a normal person again...most of the time.

This morning is an exception to that.  This morning, I compromised my sanity for 20 minutes of extra sleep.  (So not worth it!)  So, there was rushing and yelling and crying and being mad at the whole world and forgetting: my anxiety medication, my allergy medication, and (and this is the best one) diapers for Vivian.  

Big, fat, fabulous FAIL on my part.

But it's okay because it isn't a 24 hour, 7 day a week fail over and over and over again like my own personal Groundhog Day hell.

That is kind of the messed up beautiful part about it.  After spending two solid months feeling like a 24/7 screw up, having one of those really, really bad momfail mornings didn't bog me down like it would have pre-Vivian.

Growth, y'all.  Growth.

Tonight is operation: get my shit together so that we have fewer momfail mornings.  Wish me luck.