I am lucky, I am grateful. Most of my days are pure bliss and I wonder how I got so lucky. Some days, some moments, are not. I get angry, maybe not raging angry, but certainly loud and growling angry, shame causing, tears flowing angry (and I mean me), for seemingly nothing at all, just a series of tiny instances than inevitably implode... and I think a lot of mothers do, and say nothing. Glossing over the hard to face -hard to admit- shortcomings with stylized photos of seasonal activities and DIY's and Janet Landsbury quotes and "look what a picture perfect child I have"... and I get it, don't get me wrong, I get it. It's almost self soothing, justifying, maybe it lifts you up again when in reality you're soul stricken with guilt... I really do get it. I'm just here to say, I am a work in progress and I always will be, doing my best to be my best, forever evolving, improving.
Highly reccomend reading the article linked in my stories right now. It's not every mother, but it is likely relatable to at least one mother you know, maybe they need to know they aren't alone.