I’m Either Rocking it As a Mom or Barely Getting By

I’m either drinking water and green tea or I’m in the drive-thru with a Coke or a sugary coffee.

I’m either waking up with the sun and getting 63838464 things done or I’m coasting until bedtime.

I’m either an hour into the elliptical or I’m halfway through a bag of Doritos.

I’m either a mom with a bath/book/bedtime routine, or a mom locked in the bathroom hoping they’ll soon fall asleep.

I’m either a wife with the house picked up and supper ready or a wife with an unending list of complaints and needs.

I’m either a home decor project at midnight or a week behind on laundry.

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I’m either passing out encouragement like candy or biting my tongue from spreading ugly.

I’m either a half-pound of makeup and hairspray or I’m barefaced and not caring.

I’m a kind word. I’m silent.
I’m tired. I’m vibrant.
I’m so sure. I’m torn.
I’ve won. I’m failing.

I’m always smiling—sometimes genuinely, and sometimes to hide how I’m really feeling.

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I’m always thinking—of all the good things, or sometimes it’s just pure worry.

I’m always needing—more time in the day to celebrate, or an end to all the madness and monotony.

I ride a fine line between self-improvement and self-deprecation. 

And I often wake up wondering . . . 

Which side of the line I’ll fall on today.

This post originally appeared on Whitney Ballard, Writer