not enough hours in the day

twenty-four hours is really not enough. i'm home with you girls everyday and it sometimes feels like i don't get to spend time with you. at least the kind of time i want to spend with you.

i need to get meals ready, clean up, put the mail away, vacuum so you're now crawling in filth, scrubbing the tub so you're not bathing in filth, doing laundry, taking the trash out, paying bills. as i type this, the computer desk at which i sit is covered with baby books, coasters with pushpins in them, packing tape roll, a broken monkey clock, my report cards from 4th grade (thanks, mom!), a broken wireless router, paper scraps, eyeglass cloth, and $100 in snapfish pictures so all my time is really not spent cleaning. oh yeah, and i work silly real job. what sense does that make? i can't sit and read a book right now because i need to clean the table on which you're going to eat. i can't organize your shoes with you because i have to start dinner. i can't build a high tower with you because there is a mountain of dirty clothes on the bedroom floor.

i relish the moments when we're all together in one room just playing. riley will "do doctor to you" and spencer will pull out all her books or crawl into her chair then out then in then out. i'm sure this affects me more than you and you probably don't think anything of it, but being a mom i'm wracked with guilt 90% of the time. i want to be everything to you girls--i want to fix healthy meals in 30 seconds, i want to play dress-up, build forts, color, and be silly all day but i just can't. i want to give you all of me all of the time but i just can't. each day i will try to be a better mom, the best mom.