I've turned my back on laundry and cleaning. I've turned my back on entertaining my children. I face you, cruel world, naked and hopeful. Ok, keep dreaming because you'll never see me naked. But I AM hopeful. I'd like this to become a place that I can share and bare my soul. I realize that this opens me up to a great deal of criticism, but if you've met my mother you'll know I'm already use to that. Love you, Mom! I need a place to go when there's no where else. I need to know in my moments of insanity that there are others like me. As you may have guessed, I already know those things. But much to Kelly's dismay (my husband) and perhaps, yours, I need a great deal of reaffirmation. I'm beginning to let go of some of that but it's an uphill battle.

I find that raising toddlers is the most difficult thing I've EVER done. Babies, they're no problem for me. I'm good at lazing around the house in a bath robe with very little sleep. I've partied enough to remember what it feels like to not get enough sleep. No, it's the toddler stage that really makes my butthole pucker. It's the constant mess and meltdowns. It's the running, jumping, climbing, trash spelunking, nipple pinching, thigh biting, hair pulling, teeth sprouting, little midgets that make me revert to my most infantile behavior. I cry, I meltdown, and well, I set an awful example! This isn't to say that some, even most days, I'm not an incredible mother. I've spent every waking moment with my kids from birth until four (not saying that's what makes a good mother), I've put on plays, done fingerplays, dressed up, held parties for Raggedy Ann, healed wounds for Mr. Monkey, cured illness, hugged, fed, cried for, cried with and cried because I love my children. But some days, and OH, are they bad days, I'm the most angry and mean person there is. But...I'm also forgiving.

So here it goes, people. Today I forgive myself. I'm moving on. I know that I'll be back here to forgive myself again. But this is my first step. My first blog entry. I need to forgive myself because the guilt eats me up. The reality is that we can't be perfect. I'm trying like hell and that's all anyone can do. My kids will grow despite me. They may even be better in spite of me. There's no way around it. I sit here and play the blame game all day. My parents did this, my parents did that, BLAH BLAH BLAH. And they did, it's true. But I'm an adult now. I often look back and wonder how they could have done anything else based upon their own upbringing. It all makes sense. I love them for who and what they are. I hope that as I forgive them, my children will forgive me and we can grow in forgiveness and love.