*yes, that’s a reference to this song.

Yes, I make Frankenstein treats for my kids and yes, we go on nature walks and alphabet walks.  Yes, we play educational games in the grocery store, and yes, we practice our addition skills while the kids help me bake a cake.  I also let my kids splash in puddles and get muddy sometimes.  I don’t care if the baby eats a little grass or gnaws on the edge of the table.  So very often I am “that mom”.  The good one.  The over-achiever.  Mrs. Crafty McCrafterson.

But lately I’ve been feeling like that the old adage my be true for me:  Jack of all trades, master of none.

I’m feeling bleh tonight.  (It might very possibly be the horribly nasty and cheap frozen pizza I ate for dinner.)

I enjoy watching the clouds drift by as we sit on the back deck, my kids and I, but I can’t help but have a million other thoughts running through my head:

“Did I call Kathy back?  Which charter bus company have I not heard back from?  Why am I annoyed with myself for ending that last question with a preposition?  Did I lock us out of the house again?  Is Lauren available to come help me get back into my own house again?  What if the baby falls out of his crib while I’m locked out?  Which window should I break?  Can I throw hard enough to break a window?  Wait…we don’t even have any big rocks around here.  What would I use to break the window?  Ya know, I should really get one of those fake rock hide-a-key thingys.  But isn’t that like asking for a robber to let themselves into your house?  What would somebody take if they robbed me?  Surely they wouldn’t steal my pictures, right?  Would home owner’s insurance help out in the event of theft?  Do we have adequate coverage?  How about a list of our stuff.  Do we have an up-to-date one of those?  I know we had one a long time ago.  You know, before kids.  Oh, man!  What if they stole my laptop.  The one with all my pictures saved on it.  I should check on that online system backup program.   Wow, I have an over-active imagination.  I’m making myself tired just thinking.”

I’m feeling out of sorts and discombobulated.

I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.

I’m tired.

I am realizing that “I’m not SuperWoman”.

And that’s hard for me…because I so wanted to wear a form-fitting lycra suit with bright red go-go boots.