Guilt, guilt, guilt

A parent of a child with special needs looks guilt in the face many times a day.  I should know, I have felt guilty at least 3 times today, and it is just mid-afternoon. Guilty that I was so irritated with my son who was up at 4:00 this morning, guilty that I was embarrassed about Connor's outbursts during the movie, and guilty that I was anything but patient when he messed with my printer for the millionth time.  

I go to bed some nights and remorse washes over me as I think about the events of the day. I think of all the "teachable" moments I missed, the times I should have whispered instead of yelled, and the fear that my children see me as a shrew instead of a loving mother. Guilt is my constant companion.

I wish I could be that perfect mother. I know, I know. The perfect mother is a myth. The perfect mother does not exist. Great, now I feel guilty that I want to be something that I am not. Ugh. Doesn't end, does it?