I May Not Be a Broken Record, But I Sure Can't Find My Groove

This last week I have felt much like a skipping record. As soon as the song gets into its groove and moves into the chorus, my record starts to skip. So I walk over and lift the needle, replace it on the next song and then it starts again.But, first off, thanks for the love last week. The anniversary of my brother's death really added to my funk. I must say, however, that reading your warm words really helped raise my spirits. I have said it many times before but I never underestimate the fortitude of my bloggy friends. Bloggy love is real love!But truly, the biggest source of my funk was centered on me and my role as a mother. Somedays, I feel relatively in line with my vision of myself as a mother. Not that I am perfect (Double hockey sticks, no!) but I feel like I am living within my parenting values and doing more right than wrong.And then there are the other days. The days where my vision of me as a mother and the reality seem to have a divide. And by divide I mean on the Continental level. This divide is reminiscent of a certain largish canyon in the western portion of the United States. And like that certain canyon, it was not caused by a single catastrophic event but by a series of drip, drip, drips. (BTW, drip, drip, dripping is also a torture device which may explain my current headache).I have allowed stress to invade my mind, body, and spirit. I have been frazzled. I have been short of temper. My patience has had the shelf life of three day old bread. Left out. Unwrapped. In the sun. (See it's even affected my ability to come up with a decent metaphor!)I have worried about my son who has struggled with learning to take tests (in first grade!!!) I have worried for my daughter who has suddenly decided that she wants to be a baby again. Complete with asking to be carried and wanting to fed milk like an infant. I have worried for my MIL who is still struggling terribly after her injury. Oh, I will stop there. I could go on but the truth is that we all have our lists.The important thing is how we deal with the list. And I have done poorly. I have barely gotten dressed. I have worn the same ponytail for four days. Make-up?As Daffy Duck used to say, "it is to laugh!"But I have become tired of this brolen record. I am changing discs to one that brightens my day rather than indulges my mood. because funk makes for great music, not great mothering (or anything else)!