...

I don't have a title for this post. I don't even really have a theme. Just some things that have been weighing on my mind.

Edward is almost six months old and I thought it would be easier by now. I thought I'd have become "that mom". The one who wears clothes and not pajamas, who showers every day, who can play with the baby and still get housework done, who has dinner ready for her husband most nights.

I'm not. I haven't cleaned my animal cages in several weeks. And they smell. I have clean laundry stacked up that I haven't managed to fold and put away (in fact there's a pile of it on my bed that I'm going to ignore tonight). I have dirty laundry piled up too. Mostly unsorted. There are baby toys and cat toys everywhere. Enough dust to make another cat. And I still haven't unpacked my garage from when we put the floors in.

And I'm struggling for this to be ok.

I expected more from myself.

I'm a good mother. I'm just not a very good housewife. And maybe that's ok too. But sometimes it's hard to tell when you're looking for a clean pair of socks.