...today...

Today was a nothing special day. It's really been a nothing special week. But today I decided I would try to do something fun for and with the girls. I decided to take them up the canyon and have a picnic. Once the girls woke up and I had dinner ready we left. I thought, "this is going to be so great! The girls are going to love being out here! It will be so great to get out of the house! We are going to enjoy fall! And we're doing it by ourselves! (Matthew is hunting.)" 
We drove to a spot and were lucky enough to find a somewhat private little camp spot next to the creek and tucked against a hill that was perfect for climbing. The girls were so good on our drive and were so excited to be there - just as I suspected. By all accounts it was perfect. And for some reason, by the time we got home and I put my girls to bed I felt disappointed with myself. I have two of the most amazing little girls! They are so well behaved and so sweet! And despite all of the wonderful qualities of my girls, I still find myself with extremely high expectations for them and getting impatient with them. We have a wonderful companion in Mo and yet I get so frustrated with him, too - for doing dog things like heading straight for the creek and jumping in, then rather than sitting on his towel in the car, he jumps right to the drivers seat so that I get to ride home with damp pants. All things that I feel I am justified in being frustrated with. But I am so tired of being frustrated and impatient. I don't like feeling inadequate because I know things would run more smoothly if Matthew were with us. I want to be a mom who feels that she knows what she is doing when we are out and about. I want to know where all the good hiking spots are that I could take my kids to. I just want things to be perfectly imperfect all the time, and when it doesn't happen like I envisioned, or when I feel stupid for trying to do something new - something out of my comfort zone, something that I feel could make me a better person to some extent - I get frustrated. I'm tired of feeling frustrated. 
I should say that I am not always frustrated. In fact, I feel that I have been grateful and happy far more than I have been frustrated. Maybe that's why the days when I feel a little down on myself get under my skin so easily. 
I love my family and I want to be a great mom for them. I don't want to compare myself to other moms. Moms who are good at making friends and moms who are amazing cooks and talk about how little they did that day but then continue to spout out a list far more extensive than my own. Moms who can take their kids hiking and camping and think nothing of it. I want to be those moms, though. It's hard not to compare myself to them. It's hard, because I try to do those things and I always feel as if I've failed, and it's frustrating.