I have a confession to make. I am a horrible farm wife.
I’m not the best cook, I take fast food to the guys working out in the fields.
I’m not the best house keeper, I keep a clean organized home but it would never pass the white glove inspection like my moms.
I’m never caught up on laundry, I quit matching socks several years ago. Ironing is out of the question. And yes, I will wash a load twice if I forget to put it in the dryer.
I rely heavily on my dish washer, I will wash things twice if they don’t get clean the first time instead of hand washing them.
I don’t bake pies very often, I have never made homemade bread and I have never learned how to can.
I struggle to keep up with the “picture perfect lawn”. Who makes their yard an acre anyhow?!
My “garden” has five things in it, weeds is one of my biggest crops.
I sometimes forget to pick up the eggs each morning.
I’m not the best book-keeper, I am currently two months behind putting my paper records into QuickBooks.
I am not one of those women that milks the cows every milking. Most likely never will be one of those women.
Sometimes I run to town for errands and forget the most important thing. Ok, that happens more often than I would like to admit.
Most days I am just thankful to make it to the end of the day with three kids that are fed, bathed, healthy and happy.
I do however stay up almost every night and wait for my farmer to come in from chores.
So there you have it. I am a horrible farm wife. I do strive every day to be better than I was the day before. So that counts, right?!
So why am I sharing this? I think more often than not we feel like we have to do it all or we are constantly failing. We are constantly comparing ourselves with others. But the older I get, the more I realize. A messy house, mismatched socks, pulling an all nighter to catch up book work or hiring someone to help out on the farm is perfectly okay. Making sure my husband and children are loved in the midst of the chaos is sometimes the only thing I can do right.
And that is perfectly okay.
Source: Huffington Post
