Please tell me we're all this crazy

When I became a mom, I also turned crazy. OK, maybe I was a little bit crazy before, but becoming a mom has exacerbated the crazy.

My entire life, people have credited me with being very organized. That used to be somewhat true. Now one look in my closet, car or purse will tell you the truth about that one.

For example, I was at Sam's the other day and was having a very difficult time finding my credit card (you know, when all my items have already been scanned and the people behing me are glaring at me with daggers in their eyes). I offered to pay with the excess of graham crackers in my purse. The checker didn't think I was very funny. (I did find my card and no one tried to knife me or anything). I have been to two doctor's appointments in the past week or so, and at both they, understandably, asked me what medications I'm on. There are three and I couldn't remember the names of any. At either appointment. You'd think the first one would have prepared me to check my meds for the second. I told one that I'd be happy to share every medication my daughter has ever taken, along with dosage, side effects, etc. I still don't know the names of any of my own meds. I tell my coworkers it's often a miracle I get to work with clothes on. I forget to pay bills. My plants are all dead or screaming for water. My refrigerator desperately needs to be cleaned.

How is it that one tiny person can take over your life so completely, so totally that you literally can't get anything else done? Or perhaps this is just me? Please tell me it's not. And I have had this idea all along that as soon as she got to six months, to a year that things would ease up a bit. And things definitely do change, but that hasn't meant I have any more time to myself or to get things done. And how exactly do you tell people ... yeah, sorry I couldn't get to that. See, I have a kid.

I have always been a bit of a perfectionist. And someone who loves to check things off lists. And someone who bases success in life on measurable accomplishments. Changing eight diapers, getting halfway through three loads of laundry and forgetting to feed the dog till 8 at night don't exactly feel like accomplishments.

There are a lot of moments that do feel like huge accomplishments, though. Like getting through a trip to the grocery store without a breakdown. Making a new recipe (unless it's terrible). Hearing my sweet girl say a new word. Watching her "sing" itsy bitsy spider and realizing she learned that from watching me sing it to her. Seeing her share with other babies. Getting her sweet hugs and kisses. Making her belly laugh.

But it can be hard to see those things as accomplishments. Especially because we usually leave the store without everything we need to ward of a breakdown. My making dinner usually involves her crying and pulling on my leg because I'm not paying enough attention to her. My house is never clean enough. We still have episodes of inconsolable crying that take me back to colic days. Naps are never quite long enough. And I'm used to a completely different kind of accomplishment - like ROI, an increase in awareness or a meaningful media story. And I'm used to people constantly telling me I'm doing a great job. While Addie's hugs and kisses and laughter mean a lot, she doesn't exactly every say to me, "hey mom, I know this is a tough gig sometimes, but you're doing a great job."

And speaking of work ... How in the world do you people with kids and full time jobs do it???? I'm never devoting enough time to work. I'm never devoting enough time to her. That push/pull is relentless and agonizing. It's been much tougher on me, emotionally and physically, than I anticipated.

I told my mom the other day that there are times I genuinely feel like I'm the only mom in the world who doesn't have it all together. She asked if it was possible that other people look at me and think I've got it all together. Well I'm here to tell you that I really don't. My house is a wreck. I should pray more. I should talk to my husband more. I can't remember if I brushed my kid's teeth before she went to bed. I should be working on work instead of blogging. I have at least three friends' voicemails I need to return. My stinky dog seriously needs a bath. I seriously need some yoga. And a nap. And I'm crazy.