Deep breaths.

Today was hard. Really hard. 

Dallin and I are watching 8 kids while their parents go on a trip, and so far it has been going... remarkably well. Eerily well. Almost uncomfortably well. You'd think that taking care of so many kids would have at least a few hiccups, right? 

Well, it did. But rather than being spaced out, they all fell on one day. Today. 

It was miserable. Two kids sick at home. Cramping baby-maker. Painful ankle, thanks to a most unfortunate incident involving a grumpy man and a shopping cart, which is a story I might have to tell one of these days when it doesn't tick me off so much. Kid's rides falling through. Meals turning out poorly. Messes and dishes and laundry galore. Then on top of it all, I seem to have caught the same bug going around the house and spent most of the day achy, even more tired than usual (something I truly didn't think possible), and in the foulest of foul moods. It was truly a chaotic, stressful mess of a day all around. 

One of the things I need to change about myself is my stubborn-to-a-fault desire to be independent. I want to do it all myself. I have a hard time humbling myself enough to ask for help, even when I really, truly, desperately need it. I wish I could say that when I became completely overwhelmed today I accepted that I needed some backup and asked one of the many willing friends we have in common with this family for help. I wish I could say that I wasn't too proud and stubborn to do that. Instead, I just about drove myself insane trying to do it myself, which of course ended in frustration and tears. Ugly, mascara-melting, red-faced tears. 

My point is that there is great power in recognizing our limits. One of the things I don't like about social media, especially in blogging, are the unrealistic expectations it often causes us to set for ourselves. Sometimes I'll read something about a mom with, say... four kids (plus one due any day) who just finished some amazing, time/energy consuming project and when I'll had energy to do that day is eat, sleep, pee, and repeat, it is hard to not feel a little lousy about myself, especially when I think about the mountain of dishes, laundry, and other chores I've been neglecting lately with this dang pregnancy fatigue. But you know what? That's okay. That's my limit. I shouldn't try to "run faster than [I have] strength" (source) or be too hard on myself if my capabilities might be a little less than normal, and also might seem pathetic when compared to others.

All I can do is my best, and that is enough. 

Even if that means asking for help when I need it.

And let's be honest, I need it a lot more than I ask for it.

(Also, I am way too tired to really proofread this thing, so forgive me if it makes no sense at all. Kthxbye.)