I want to write. I do. I also want to do yoga every day, go hiking, ride my bike, eat less than 1800 calories a day, not drink so much, not yell at my kids, get 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep...the list of things I want to do is so long. Besides, I don't have anything interesting to say. I just have a lot of blah blah blah - I'm not doing anything special or magical over here. That's not true. Those two little girls are pretty special and magical, and raising them...well, that's why I don't write anymore. At the end of the day, I'm either too tired to find words, or too ashamed of my behavior to talk about it with anyone. Rationally, I know I'm not a bad mom. In fact, some people may even say I'm a great mom. Sometimes I am. Sometimes I am really shitty at this parenting thing, though. I am short-tempered and too demanding and my expectations are way too high for a 4 year old and a 2 and a half year old. I'm trying to learn how to go with the flow, to not stress over the little things, to follow Geneva's instructions and take a step back and ask for help when I'm frustrated, to take a deep breath and count to four when I feel so mad I want to roar. It's hard sometimes. Life is hard, even when you know you're on easy street.