Every day I have an opportunity to try again.  To try to get it right.  Make it happen.  Pursue flawed perfections.

Every day I have a common knowledge of what I should do.  And every night I go to bed wondering why I didn’t DO it!

For instance.  Last night my hubby put me to bed at 8:30.  I was grateful and so happy and did doze off immediately.  And then Katie, escaping from her room, came and crawled in bed with me.  I knew I should have gotten up and taken her immediately back to her bed.  But I didn’t do it.  I let her come in, listened to her tell me stories, ended up playing and tickling with her, and was up at 10pm, alert and unable to sleep.  She did fall asleep next to me at 10.  But I was now up and at ’em.

So I decided to watch TV.  Even though I shouldn’t.

Bad idea.  Bad. Bad. Bad.

Because I found a documentary called “Dirty Sexy Cancer” and was immediately drawn in, and signing myself up for 2 hours of alertness, emotion, and curiosity.  Though I was glad I watched it, I was certainly going to pay for not going to bed and getting some sleep.  My children would make certain of it.

Sure enough, at 1am, right after I had actually, fallen asleep, I heard Sarah.

“Mommeeeee, I need meeeyyyuuulllkkkkk.”

Remind me to write a post on the epic fail of taking milk away, please.

Katie also heard her, startled, and flipped herself off the bed, landing on Sarah, and sending them both into screams that the neighbors, acres away, could probably hear.  Megan certainly heard it, and in the quest never to be left out, also joined in from her room.

And then my husband joined in.  Having fallen asleep on the couch, he had actually gone to bed at a decent time and was well on his way to a full night sleep.

Not anymore.

“What is going on here?!!??!”

Oh dear!

I tried to explain that Sarah came in, Katie fell out of bed, and Megan wanted to be like her sister’s and his response was, “Why is Katie even in here?  I sent you to bed to get some sleep!”

I had no good excuse.  He was right.  I should have done what I knew would produce the best outcome.  Instead, I was up for over an hour in the middle of the night, trying to calm three tired, cranky, freaked out kids and a pretty irritated husband.  And I was tired, because I didn’t go to bed like I was supposed to.

I, literally, could write on this all day long.

Why do I give my kids frozen waffles when I should make a healthier, homemade, version in my waffle maker?  I should get up early every day and get some me time before the onslaught of kids wakes and sends my day into a flurry.  I should sit down and play with them for an hour every morning and every afternoon instead of always telling them to “hold on” because mommy has dishes, or laundry, or a blog post to finish “real quick”.

I should put on some mascara, lipstick, and run a brush through my hair so I feel better during the day.  I should make a list and stick to it and get my chores done.

I should, I should, I should.

Instead, I just do.