Going Down In Flames

I have so many people tell me that I'm a good mom. That I'm doing so well, that the babies are flourishing, that they can't believe how well I'm handling things. I just feel that they're wrong. My mum, my mother-in-law, my step-mom, the in-home visitor from the hospital, my friends ... they're all just wrong. They see how great everything is. All is see is what's wrong.

I see a dirty house, a constant state of dishes needing to be done in the sink, mountains of laundry, clutter building exponentially, two little boys who don't get held enough, read to enough, shown black and white pictures to stimulate their brains enough, who desperately need love and attention and cuddles but have a mom who doesn't have enough arms and time to give it to them. I see a husband who comes home to a mess, and a wife who is so tired of baby care that he gets his children thrown at him so she can escape to the kitchen to try to prepare him a good meal. I see a man who works so hard for his family, but doesn't get a break when he gets home because his wife hasn't done dishes and needs him to do them, or just a wife who is so at her wits end that he has to now juggle two babies on his own so she can have five minutes of escape. I see a woman who is failing. Failing in the job she has dreamed of since she was a teenager - the one thing she always wanted - to be a stay-at-home wife and mother.

If this were a regular job, I'd have been fired by now.

I want - need - so desperately to be a good mother, to be proud of my home, to have Ben be proud that I am his wife. And I'm failing. When people tell me that I'm doing well, that I'm a good mom, I just want to scream at them that they're wrong. "Don't you see my house? Don't you see the mess? If you put a camera in my living room and watched me all day, there is no way you would say this!! You'd criticize me! You'd snatch my babies and snuggle them and whisper that you're sorry that I'm their mom. You'd praise Ben for putting up with me. Why can't you see that I'm a failure?!"

I can't keep up. I'm drowning in my shortcomings. I'm embarrassed when people see my house. I'm terrified that my kids will look back and pray they don't end up with a woman like their mom. I'm afraid that one day Ben will wake up and think, "Where did my life turn wrong?"

Maybe I'm just over-emotional because I'm in the midst of my period (yeah, TMI, I don't care.) Maybe I'm experiencing the first clutches of Post-Partum Depression. Maybe I'm wired to only see the bad in myself - it's always been that way. I can't see what I do right. Maybe I'm just having a bad day and need to vent everything out to save my sanity.

Or maybe I'm right.

Dear God in Heaven, please don't let me be right. I can't fail at this job. I can't fail these precious little boys. They need me to be the best mom I can. God, give me the strength and the ability to be that for them. Give me the power to be the wife that Ben deserves. I need You. I need Your strength. You've got to get me through. I can't do it on my own.

I can't let my family down.