This job of mine doesn't earn me a dime. I guess that makes me a volunteer? Though I don't know if I knew what I was signing up for. After a day like this one, I am thinking that when the volunteer sheet went around, I should have signed up for an afternoon a week at the soup kitchen.
|photo by Zion|
Except for today, which was nothing but a big fat failure on my part. An F minus, a zero, a crash and burn.
Motherhood is so incredibly HARD.
Through bleary eyes I texted Daniel at work and told him what had happened. "I am the one who needs to be disciplined!!!" I wrote. He responded that me failing her is just part of Jubilee growing up in a family. He's so right. She could have grown up in an orphanage, where the staff would have smiled behind gritted teeth all day long for a paycheck. But none of those staff would have loved her. None of them would have stuck around longer than a few years, at best. She would have grown to hate those plastered smiles, and she would have longed for unwarranted discipline from a well-meaning mother who, despite her enormous flaws, will never
Being a part of a family is messy, but it is real, and it is lasting, and it is loving, and it is my life, whether I knew what I was signing up for or not.