Sometimes I fall under the pressure of the jobs in the house.
Sometimes I become almost demonic with perfecting silly ornaments in the house like I have some crazy OCD.
Sometimes I stare intently at a bit of fluff on the carpet whilst my Husband is talking to me, desperate to go and pick it up.
Sometimes I don't listen enough.
Sometimes I talk more than I listen.
Sometimes I don't talk enough.
Sometimes I let everything get on top of me. I do this far too often.
Sometimes I feel more stressed out than I actually thought was possible to be.
Sometimes I just wish the house was perfect, that there was nothing left to do in it so that we could focus our efforts on just each other.
Sometimes I want to scream when Ethan won't go to bed and it's 9pm and I am trying to have a little 'me' time - that time is now. But then I realize that it's not worth stressing over.. so what he's crawling around the living room in his grow bag pulling the sky box out? - No-one died.
Sometimes I wish I could be that perfect Mum and perfect Wife, who never gets stressed, keeps a perfect house and is super-organised.
Sometimes I wish I was smarter, that I 'knew' things.. I'm working on this.. I just sat and learnt about the oceans of the world.. (it's the small steps..)
Sometimes I want to sit and reflect, reflect again and then reflect some more.
Sometimes I need to remember how insanely lucky I am and to remember just how many wonderful things have happened to me, some of which blow my mind.
Sometimes I just need to sit and look at photos like this and realize that a dirty kitchen floor, a pile of washing, an hours wait at the Doctors, an unfinished house and all those other bloody daily bugbears..well they are just absolutely nothing.
Not even a tiny dot in the ocean compared to them.
My family and I. This is what truly means something and well..