If Motherhood Were a Paying Job, This Is the Point Where I'd Ask for a Raise

Yesterday, we went to church with the girls (and my in-laws). We are not a church-going family. I won't get into all the reasons why. I'll just say that the girls really enjoy going to Sunday school, and I think that's great. My in-laws seem to enjoy taking them, and I think that's great too. Meanwhile, Dean and I have taken the opportunity to run together on Sunday mornings, and I think that's great as well. Everyone wins. Well, this Sunday was the children's mass, so we took the girls ourselves because all the kiddos were going to sing "Joy to the World" at the end of the service. Another busy weekend, and I'm shuffling and reshuffling things in my head to figure out when/how I'll have chance for a run that's longer than four miles. Probably doesn't seem important (or at least not as important as church attendance), but I'm lucky to run 15 miles a week lately, and the whole family is paying for it. Plus, as Dean said recently (strangely echoing another friend of mine), running IS my church. (And yes, this may mean I'm going to hell, but so be it.)

Anyhow, we went to church to be supportive parents and see our kids sing for what turned out to be three minutes of a 40-minute deal. It was fairly cute (the older kids did this radio skit), but Ella was pissy and bored the whole time, so it's not like she got a whole lot out of it either. I gather that they're not usually physically in the pews like that but are rather in Sunday school the whole time, which is probably a whole different ball of wax. In the end, the girls did go up to sing, but because their parents totally suck, they didn't know the words to the song and just stood up there. Sigh.

So we get into the car, and Sadie starts some rant for who knows what reason*. I mean, she wasn't mad about anything as far as I could tell, then suddenly she yells that Dean and I don't do anything right and that I'm stupid. I told her that wasn't a nice way to talk to people and that she could take a time out when she got home. Then we got home, and I (privately) burst into tears. Honestly, I feel like all I do lately is work to make them happy, to make them fulfilled, to make them content, etc., etc. But there are days--like Tuesday when I picked her up from preschool and the teacher had no idea who I was because I never do drop off or pick up--that I feel like I'm falling so short of the mark. I don't know if it's the working mom thing--my kids ask me to play with them and half the time, I have to say no because I'm making dinner or folding laundry or what not. I just don't know. Or, like Saturday, we had their little friends over to decorate cookies. I like doing this. The girls like seeing their friends. But for the two hours I was trying to get ready in the morning, the only thing they take away is that I'm not playing with them. Just like the only thing they took away after the party was over is that I didn't do their bedtime story (for, like, the one night ALL week) because I had to mop sticky frosting up off the floor.

Basically, what I'm saying is that this is such a thankless job sometimes. Not all the time. But sometimes.

*Oh, I just realized why Sadie was mad. We skipped the donut portion after church because I was desperate to get my run in. She had been angry about it when we left church (even though we warned them about 15 times that we would be leaving right after the service). I thought I had gotten her over it, but I guess that was a belated reaction to how much we suck. Which I appreciate. I mean, donuts *are* important. But isn't your own mother's sanity just a tiny bit *more* important? Do any of the things I actually DO count for anything? Or is it just the things that I FAIL to do that they're keeping track of?