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I generally hate picking titles for posts. I'm just not witty or conscise enough. Plus, there's so much swirling in my head right now, so I don't know what's actually going to get typed out. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a successful parent. More precisely, I've been wondering how to make sure I can get through the day not feeling like a failure as a parent at least six times. (what? only six times?) And I've decided I have absolutely no idea at this point how to satisfy myself in that regard. Sure, I could wax philosphical and talk about how my husband thinks that "as long as your kids know they can talk to you about anything, you're successful". Sure, that's probably one mark of a successful parent. But I'm talking about there here. The now. I'm not the fun parent. I'm the parent who lays down the law-and-don't-you-think-for-a-second-that-I'm-joking-when-I-say-do- not-wiggle-in-time-out-buddy. I'm the parent who, when asked to "play trains!" takes the GeoTracks track and builds a circle because that's all my brain is capable of, which is NOT! good! ENOUGH! and then we must screech at the very TOP of our lungs and at the TOP of the sound barrier and bang our head against walls to further demonstrate our displeasure with said circle train track; because if Dad! were here, he would build me something that looked like a roller coaster at Great America and why aren't you dad! I'm the parent who, when asked to "make dinosaur, Mommy!" with the Legos, builds something that makes my almost-2 year old cry because THAT...that - that is NOT a dinosaur, and I will SCREECH again to show you how terrible your un-dinosaur is. I am the parent who, when trying to save that very same almost-two-year-old from running away at a very crowded outdoor festival on Memorial Day, is greeted with more! of the screeching! The very, very loud screeching. And by the way - I will now hit you because I am not allowed to run free! Hit! Screech! Kick! Throw! Head-bang! I am two and will show you ten different ways that I can act two in the next three seconds! Three! I know I am not a complete failure. I am able to turn the television on and find WonderPets and Sesame Street and Wiggles on the Tivo, which makes me very successful as a mother in the eyes of my son. I am able to fetch markers and paper and apple juice when screeched at. I can write a "W" (Jacob's current favorite letter) on the paper with those markers over and over and over again. I can sing some good songs, read some fun books, and I give a good hug when that very rowdy, very lively toddler finally decides to cuddle for a half of a nano-second (usually it's because he's hurt or just plain exhausted). I just want to know that when I'm being fun, he's really caring. I want to know that when I'm laying down the law, just a little bit might be getting through. I want to know that all this caring and working and trying and hoping is going to pay off. And I just don't know. But this I do know: summer is here. Our Memorial Day weekend was fabulous. Sonoma. Train Town (Jacob heaven). Pancake breakfast. Fantastic Monday bbq with incredible friends. An art and kite festival that I look forward to every single year and which never lets me down. Time spent with my three boys. The pink sting of the years first (thankfully light) sunburn. Now for the pedicure I've put off for the past 3 years...