Admitting FAILURE.....

Is it just me or have women as a whole been conditioned that admitting failure or weakness is somehow a bad thing? We have to be able to do everything perfect, whether we work or stay home. Get up, go to work, do a great job, come home, have family time, whip up a quick delicious meal, never break a sweat, never lose your cool. Then you need to go to bed, of course have mind blowing life altering sex (gotta keep that man happy), and sleep a few hours and then start all over again. I want to start a new initiative, and I am putting this proposal on the table. Lets use me as an example, I have no shame. I am going to share all the things that make me a "failure" at life. I make sure my kids have what they need the night before so I don't have to get up in the morning and see them off to school. I mean I sort of get up, wander around like a zombie, mumble my good byes, make sure the basics are taken care of (yep, they made it onto the bus) and go back to bed. I like to sleep till 9 or so, and I have a 3 year old who doesn't. So I place him in front of The Backyardigans with a cereal bar and go back to bed. I can supervise with my super duper mom senses. FAILURE. Since I have been unemployed for the last few months I then get up and make a pot of coffee. I consume about 4 cups. Throw in some laundry, cruise Facebook, while the 3 year old plays next to me on the floor. I don't eat breakfast, neither does he, besides the cereal bar and the banana I managed to peel for him. FAILURE. Then we eat lunch, and most of the time after bargaining over eating a sandwich or a cup of goldfish, I give in and say "Eat the damn goldfish!" "Now go take a nap!" FAILURE. Then I get some quiet time when I plan for supper, change laundry, take the dog out, or putz around. If I am really ambitious I might just lay on the couch for a nap. FAILURE. About 3 my kids get home, we do homework, they get a snack (probably more of the DEVIL goldfish), then they park it in front of the t.v. for their hour of entertainment before supper. Then the 3 year old tyrant wakes and and I usually only have to break up 2 screaming matches, and 1 physical altercation, but that's just an average day. I can usually manage not to threaten their lives, and successfully managed to insert the word fricken' into my vocabulary, but won't go as far as to say the F-bomb has never been dropped. FAILURE. I dutifully make supper and cram in what is possibly my first and only meal of the day, so I eat way too much. But what the hell ice cream sounds good too. And I wonder why I am so fat? FAILURE. Now, if I am lucky I might even get to scrub out a pair of dirty undies(let's be honest I throw them away). Fight a 3 year old onto the toilet to poop. He is stubborn, he holds it for days. Bribe him, with chocolate.....hey it works. Then baths, and books, cuddles and kisses. One Zoloft and 6 hours of sleep later we start over again. Now maybe I am insane for admitting all of this. Maybe CPS will be knocking on my door soon. But in all this failure, this chaos, you will find 3 of the most happy well-adjusted children. They are loved, they are fed, they are clean. Life isn't all about perfect hair like a Pantene commercial. It's about a fat mom in sweat pants. It's about dirty faces, and punching your sister in the face when she eats your last gold fish. So rather than call this life a FAILURE, I am adopting a new phrase for it. REALITY. And guess what, I feel much better knowing my kids will have had a healthy dose of reality when they get out into the real world. Then maybe they won't feel like such FAILURES......