Becoming a mom can make you eat your words.
Today I spent nearly an hour dying rice four different colors for a craft project.
I make dinner nearly every night and regularly touch raw meat (though I use tongs to minimize contact as much as possible) and sometimes even enjoy it.
On occasion, I leave dirty pots and pans on the stove and dishes in my sink because we have to rush off to some activity or there is a crisis that needs my attention.
I desperately need a leash for my two year old ... we can only get lucky so many times.
Bouncy chairs are not baby shakers, they are lifesavers.
At one point or another, I really wanted each of my three children to take a pacifier.
I always carry snacks in my purse and will dole them out to keep the peace.
I have used the DVD player in our van many times, and it was worth it.
Some kids just won't eat their vegetables.
There is always someone yelling or crying in the background when I am on the phone.
"Because I said so," is an answer.
Keeping boys from standing/hanging on furniture is like swatting flies in a humid Iowa summer.
I have been that harried, frazzled mom pushing a cart through the grocery store, one child hanging off the side grabbing everything, another throwing a tantrum and a baby screaming from the car seat perched atop the cart basket.
And I carried on all the way to the checkout line.
I now know the heartache of watching your child experience loss or disappointment and the awesomeness of loving someone that much.
I have learned that I really don't have any of the answers, and I will never attain perfection.
I have learned why God loves me, anyway.
Just the way I love them.