The hardest part...

The hardest part of being a mother of three isn't the lack of time, or sleep, or the expense or the obvious piles of laundry.  But instead - and this one shocks me - it's the feeling that I love so many people with more than I thought was possible.  I spend most days (hopefully this will go away when I start sleeping again) feeling just this side of a full blown anxiety meltdown.  For a controlling person this is my hardest thing.  I now have an actual list of people to take care of, to make sure that they are growing physically, emotionally and intellectually all while doing so in a graceful manner.  I take a lot of deep breaths during the day trying to not spin out of control with the what if's.  In looking at the traits of the adults I encounter on a daily basis I have built an list in my head of the ways in which I want my kids to act, and the ways I don't.  It's daunting most days and makes my heart hurt when I feel like the girls were mean to a bug for no reason, or when they won't except the responsibility when the milk spills.  Truthfully the worst part, is that we are by far the strictest parents we hang out with and in the end who's to say that ours will turn out the best...maybe the family down the street that lets their kids do whatever they want will have the Rhode scholar.  Sigh.  I keep going back to the fact that all of us parents are just treading water trying not to drown, perhaps they all feel just as I do.