Where is it written that good moms smell bad?

This morning, as I prepared to do for the third day in a row what I call a 'busy mom's beauty routine' (deodorant, lipstick, mouthwash), I was grumpily ruminating on how unfair it is that I always come last. It was nearly 9am, and I was still in my pajamas, smelling a bit funky, hadn't eaten my breakfast, sporting some TinaTurner-esque hair, hadn't taken my medicine, and it felt like each time I tried to start doing any of those things, one of the kids needed me for something. And me being me, of course I'd get them some juice before I eat my breakfast, because clearly they would expire if they didn't get it RIGHT NOW.
All of a sudden, it hit me. I am the only one who can put myself first. Children, by their very nature, will put their own 'needs' first. It's up to me to say "You can wait 5 minutes for some juice while I have my breakfast." It's up to me to make showering a priority (and it should be, because WOW, was I getting a bit wildebeest-like!). They don't get to prioritise my day - if they did, we'd watch cartoons and eat nothing but McDonald's, interspersed with trips to the park and shops.
I think my problem is that I place everything on an equal footing, so I can't prioritise because it's all of the utmost importance. And it isn't, is it? Sweeping the floor is important, because Pippa crawls around and eats whatever she finds - animal, vegetable, mineral, she's not picky. Breakfast for Mum is important, because I get cranky - and believe me, nobody wants that. 
I think that also because I make it all super-important, I tend to get overly upset about minor things. I am stressed a great deal of the time, because I let the little things get to me. It's really that I'm frustrated about not being perfect. I can't be all things to all people all the time, and it bothers me.  I put all this pressure on myself to have a perfect home, perfect children, perfect life - that I miss out on the joy of being  not so perfect. Yes, there are cobwebs in nearly every single corner of my house. But if I spend all my time looking up at the corners, I miss out on my children right in front of me.
This post has rambled a bit, but to recap:
1. I need to not sweat the small stuff so much
2. I also need to place realistic priorities on things
3. I need to throw out my tights and cape, because, contrary to my own inflated ego, I am NOT a superhero!
 
XOXO,
Sarah

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