My Best. 1.

It's completely predictable yet somehow, someway there is no way around it.

I pride myself on timeliness, yet I can't think of anything farther than the truth somedays.

I notice the clock on the stove reads 11:15 and I stare down at my pajama clad self, H dressed but covered in remnants from lunch and E, whose ponytail is sliding out of her hair and face needs a good scrubbing.

In an hour, it is over and we hop into the van halfway presentable and soon we find ourselves waiting in the preschool drop off line.

And then I notice that his shoes are on the wrong feet, and his undershirt on backwards sticking out beneath his shirt and his teeth as he kisses me, missed the toothbrush this morning.

I halfheartedly joke with the mom next to me and she agrees saying; At least you made it here.

I drive home listening to E hum herself to sleep and again am struck by the fact that I'll be transferring her to bed from the carseat. No time for books or a song or even a good little rock in the chair

And there is guilt there. Though I know there shouldn't be.

At least she's napping. I tell myself as I walk her inside and lay her sweet limp body down.

It's not perfect, this motherhood thing, but that's the beauty of it, isn't it? It's being real and it's trying and it's doing the best I can.

...More thoughts to come on this another day soon...