You get to be a fly on my wall today

I am spent.  I am so at my end I don't even know where to start.  Lately it feels like every single thing that could possibly challenge my relative success as a good mom, has.  And it all culminates into one word: FAILURE.  Just pin a big fat F on my forehead because that's where I am.  

I hate mealtime.  LOATHE it.  Nothing I do is right.  We can never get through a meal without at least one of the Princesses dissolving into a puddle of tears because they didn't like it, or didn't eat it fast enough, or whatever.  Today I made waffles.  WAFFLES.  I mean seriously, that's like straight sugar on a plate.  You'd think they'd be falling all over themselves in excitement.  But no.  Princess #1 turns what should be a relatively quiet meal into a tear fest because it's "just not what she wanted".  I seriously cannot win.  Then you add to that the pressure to feed your kids the right food, good food, food that won't poison them or give them cancer in 20 years because it was made mostly of chemicals and you've really got a guilt trip on your hands.  I just can't do it anymore.  I'm tired of laboring over menus and cookbooks, trying to decide what to feed my family during the week, hoping I have enough money to cover all the ingredients.  Tired of rushing off to grocery stores either with all the kids in tow or with an extremely tight budget, reading labels and agonizing in the aisle over whether or not I should buy that box of Golden Crisp just so we don't have to fight over what the kids will eat for breakfast.  I'm tired of spending forever in the kitchen making a mess that I will have to clean up, just to put a decent meal on the table so that the Princesses' can turn up their noses, tell my how stinky it is or how much they hate it.  It hurts.

And that's just mealtime.  Everything I say is questioned by Princess #1 or #2 these days.  Everything.  Every request is met with a "but...".  They have apparently forgotten how to pick up after themselves.  I must have the word maid tattooed on my forehead.  Any request to pick up toys is treated like I just asked them to run outside naked.  The sheer HORROR!  I'm raising my voice more than I like to because I feel like I'm not being heard.  Princess #3 has decided she has no use for naps anymore.  I put her down in her crib and she will talk and jabber for about 20 minutes and then that quickly dissolves into full on screaming and attempts to climb out.  The child NEEDS a nap.  The rest of the afternoon is shot when she doesn't get one.  Princess #2 is just flat out testing the limits.  Purposely disobeying, not listening, ignoring, whathaveyou.  By the end of the day I don't even have enough energy to discipline anymore.

I just... I just don't know.  I feel like I'm screwing up somehow.  Like it's not supposed to be this hard.  Like my kids don't like me.  I'm not the "fun" parent.  I'm the one that keeps food in the fridge and clothes clean.  And right now it just feels like that doesn't mean much when you're 6, 4 and nearly 2.