The trouble with being "amazing"

The trouble with being "amazing" is that I am not.  I am not amazing. 

I should back up a bit and explain what I mean.  I often hear from people that because I have seven kids I am "amazing".  They don't know how I do it.  They tell me how they would go crazy and how they can barely cope with __ (insert # of children here).  I usually smile and fumble around trying to find the appropriate way to respond to that kind of, oh praise I guess I will call it.  Inside, I cringe and think "if only they knew!". 

"Amazing" is definitely not a word that I would ever use to describe myself.  I know that when it is said that those saying it mean it from a good place.  They don't realize how that word resonates inside of me.  I feel as though I am viewed and placed on such a high platform and who I am and how my life really looks is such a sham in comparisons.  It makes me angry.  Not at them, but at me, because I don't measure up.  I don't measure up and somehow I feel as though I should. 

My house is often in varrying stages of chaos.  Most days if you came over you would be lucky to find a place to sit.  Piles of laundry, toys, and mail seem to spread everywhere. In the kitchen the sink is more likely than not to be full of dishes from last night's dinner, the floor will be in need of a sweeping, and the garbage might be close to over flowing.  My 2 year old will probably be running around in his underwear and the dog is bound to smell.  None of which would bring the word "amazing" to mind.

As a Mom, I think I am pretty mediocre at best.  I disappoint my children daily.  There never seems to be enough of me to satisfy them.  I am terrible at making sure their school work is organized, finished, and turned in.  In the homework realm I am pretty sure I get a failing grade.  Their fingernails get long and dirty before I realize it and get them cut.   I yell when I should be listening.  I am impatient.  I get frustrated quickly.  I am not saying a am a horrible Mom.  My kids are clean, usually, well fed and for the most part happy little people.  I just don't see the word "amazing" fitting into my Mom description.


As a wife, hmmm, you would have to ask my husband.  I don't know if I would marry me or not.

As a person, this is where I struggle with that word the most.  "Amazing."  My insides are messy. I am not quite ready to share that messiness with you.  If you have seen the show Hoarders, that is how I could best describe me.  Internally, I hold onto it all.  I have piles and piles of "stuff" everywhere and I am trying to process it. So, that is where I am.  Processing.  I am processing and being very un-amazing in my doing it.
I am far from where I feel the world views me and far from where I want to be and that is the trouble with being "amazing", because I am not and it makes me angry.