I expect too much. I believe that motherhood means setting new expectations, but in spite of declaring it to the world, I have yet to wrap my brain around the idea.
I expect too much of myself. I feel that I can somehow, always take on more sewing or drama or organizing projects and finish them on time. It almost never happens and then I am stressed out, irritable, and weary.
I expect too much of my husband. I want him to always accept that the house is a disaster, dinner isn't made, and we are out of clean clothes (again). I don't want to ever have to remind him to do anything, so when I do - it bothers me. And it shouldn't, because he's just as exhausted as I am.
I expect too much of my kids. Other people have children who appreciate sleep, so I feel that mine should too. The thing is, I don't sleep either (too many other things to do) - so I don't know why I would think they will. I think they should be able to occupy themselves for an hour while I cook or clean or write, but that never happens.
And lately, I especially expect too much of Lincoln. This beautiful, amazing kid is three years old and I sometimes seem to think that means he should be able to wake up quietly in the morning so as to not disturb his sister, who is typically sleeping on top of me. I feel like he should be able to finally decide he's okay with being potty trained. He should know that he can't climb on the table or play in the fridge or eat graham crackers all day as he sees fit. He should be able to get in his car seat without climbing in the driver's seat and pushing 14 buttons first.
I get so frustrated with him, but he doesn't deserve it. I need to be teaching, not scolding. Helping him make better choices, not making him just as discouraged as I am. If I am reacting poorly to decisions he makes, how is that setting him up for life?
This parenting thing, friends? It's really, really hard. And I definitely don't have it even close to figured out.