Okay, so you know that really annoying person that loves to sing more than anything in the world, and belts out any note or song at the top of their lungs at any given opportunity? But wait, I forgot to add that this person CANNOT sing worth his or her life, and everybody cringes when they hear them. C'mon. You know the person I am talking about. We all do. We all have one. Maybe not necessarily a singer, but perhaps someone who loves to play a sport but stinks at it, or loves to cook, but doesn't produce anything with flavor in the end, or worse yet, burns it and thinks it's just "blackened" chicken.
What in the world am I getting at? You might wonder. Well, I'll tell you. I am that person. No really, I am. Let me explain. I LOVE LOVE LOVE being a mom. I LOVE my kids, I (for the most part) LOVE being pregnant. I love everything about being a mom (am I really saying this so soon after psycho Mckay reared her very ugly head?) but I am afraid--no, not just afraid--I am sure that I am no good at it. I am one of those people that knows I am not good at it, yet I love it so much I carry on with it anyway. I often catch myself thinking "when we have our next baby" (NO! It will not be soon, nosy people!) and then in the same thought think, is it really fair to have a "next baby" when I cannot even handle/do a good job/teach/have patience for/[insert all having to do with motherhood here] the ones that I have?
And for my next thought: What is worse: being a horrible singer and still singing at the top of your lungs because you have no clue that you are horrible, or being a horrible singer and loving it so much you just don't care that you stink at it so you do it any way, because you really do just love it that much? Neither seem like good options to me. So where does that leave us challenged folk? Am I destined to produce and raise "blackened chicken" because I am that selfish?