This is hard, you're worth it and I'm trying.

Fair warning: I might emotionally vomit on you if keep reading. Accompanying this emotional vomit are photos from the day Chad and I thought the Mead children were ready for a four mile hike. These photos show a very trying experience for all involved.

I know motherhood is the most important thing I will ever do, but I often feel certain -- sometimes daily -- that I am irrevocably screwing it up. Logically I know that large cups of chocolate milk will be split and that we will clean it up and all survive. Yet, when it happens I'm pissed off. Irritation surges through me like blood through arteries. If you don't already know let me tell you that irritation and motherhood go hand-in-hand.

My mom often exclaimed, "I'm going to have a nervous breakdown!!!!" I remember thinking, "Phefp, what's she freaking out over?" Mom, I feel you now! I get it. Maybe I'll have one or maybe I already did (my memory is shot too). It's probably for the best.

All four of you are flawed. You're impatient, selfish, insensitive, oversensitive, negative, lazy -- I could go on and on. The thing is, I suffer from a lot of the weaknesses too. Yet, here we all are, together trying to work it out. Seems like kind of a sick joke; putting insensitive people next to overly-sensitive people. Sometimes I'm sure God is up there having a really good laugh; the kind where you're re-watching a favorite movie and you start giggling before the funny thing happens. Probably exactly like that, but by now the joke must have gotten old. Certainly he's now thinking "Really? This situation still irritates you!? Get it together."

Tone. I have a problem with tone. Not really the screaming or yelling but speaking in a tone that clearly communicates I don't like you, I'm mad at you. Staph. Then it happens, your shoulders sink in and suddenly you seem so small; I see how deeply I have cut you and I hate myself. I know that despite reacting appropriately over the three prior irritating things I have now blown it over this trivial thing and you don't remember how we happily cleaned up 1,000 cheerios together just an hour ago.

I often think, "I never speak to my friends or husband this way, why can't I get it together for the people who need me the most?" But then I also think, "I wouldn't be friends with someone who never appreciated me or ruined my dress and then later told me how disgusting my dinner was." Seriously, raising kids ain't for whimps.  Especially after you factor in that their ingratitude and rudeness is also your fault! Why haven't you taught them better? Aghhhhh!

Our lesson at church today was The Words we Speak. I felt guilty -- naturally -- and reflected on how just last night Luke told me that I talk to him angry a lot. When I tucked him in I told him he was right and that I am trying and that I'll try to do better, then I apologized and we both cried. As part of the lesson today we were given time to consider, if we had only 25 words we could give to our families what would they be.

Here's mine: I love you. I'm sorry. I'm trying. It's harder then it looks. I'm imperfect, You're worth it.

I only got 18 words down before I was blubbering and could no longer concentrate on what my imaginary last words to you would be. Where my head was at is pretty clear; I'm feeling bad and know I need to do better.

One adjective I didn't list before that belongs squarely behind my name is determined. I am determined to be better at this; for you and for me. Because we were put together to smooth out each others rough edges and both become better for the journey.