Christmas is coming and I had really anticipated that this Christmas would be the Christmas my kids get it. That I would have done a good job in explaining and living out this season and they would understand and love Christmas for more than just the presents.
I think I'm sucking.
I feel like there's a lot of bickering and whining and crabby pants going on.
With my kids, too.
The other night Josh was reading Tabitha's Travels, our advent book, and I was reading some fiction piece of chit. It wasn't until I woke up in a panic the next morning that I realized what I'd been doing.
So I'm all panicky, sweaty. Realizing I'm this big fat failure of an example.
When am I going to get this mothering thing right?
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