You're good enough, You're smart enough..

There are some days when my life scares the ever living shit out of me.
Okay maybe not days but moments where suddenly it hits me that I am NOT the person that needs to be doing this.
For example, earlier this evening Presley and I were sitting at the table working on writing his whole name and when we got to our last name he said "this is a hard word Mom" and for about 2 seconds i went into a panic thinking that i am the LEAST patient person on the face of the Earth, why am I teaching a small child to write. Dear God, I am responsible for teaching another human being our written language??? I don't think I would be capable of explaining this to a grown up with a high IQ let alone a small child with a learning disability!! But then i looked down and he had written it perfectly and had gone on to draw what he said was the USS Presley Joe..
Or the moment before i go to sleep at night when i suddenly remember that i forgot to turn on the alarm clock and i manage to shake myself awake, get up and turn it on. Its in that moment when i think Fuck Brandy! You just about completely forgot to turn on the alarm clock? That is the easiest part of your entire day! Presley would have been late for school and probably missed some super important lesson on String Theory, what kind of Mother does that?? Oh shit I'm a mother!! I am solely responsible for three living, growing, learning beings. Their health and their happiness are direct results of decisions that I make and looking back.. Ive had my moments of some pretty pitiful decision making.. But then i tell myself that i guess i must be doing something right, they are all still alive so that counts for something. No one has starved to death or been struck by lightening yet.. And for kids whose existence is half way made out of me, they're pretty well adjusted I'd say. They have manners, they don't talk back or dart off into traffic. They're pretty self reliant. They make happy plates and they don't put their elbows on the table.. And then i get back in bed, satisfied that the alarm clock is on..
Some people may say hey, you know that sounds alot like PTSD? But i say that i just spend way to much time by myself.. You know when James is gone I can easily go two weeks without having any interaction with anyone over the age of five? Think about what that's like for a second. Day in and day out, never really connecting with anyone who can stand up in the shallow end of a pool? This is normally when i have my momentary panics..
But then i buck up, wash the dishes and try to do something fun with kids and realize that Yea, i got this shit! I can do this. My kids are effing amazing (even though they come from two long lines of crazy!) and sooner or later James will get home and it will be nice when he does but nothing is going to crumble without him.

Besides, even on my worst day im pretty good at reminding myself that somebody out there has had it worse.. Like the ladies that had to this kind of shit to keep it together when their husbands were gone.. Because yea, eff that..