When I was a little girl, all I wanted to be was a mother. Sure, I played around with being a marine biologist (who knew you had to be good at science?!), and I would teach school to my dolls and stuffed animals. I dreamed of being an ice skater when the winter Olympics were on, and I toyed with the idea of being a journalist. I considered different careers, but in my heart, I knew my greatest desire was to be a mom. And now I am. I'm the mom of two incredible human beings, and God has given me the desire of my heart. But man, is it ever hard. Before I gave birth, I knew exactly what kind of mom I would be. I'd be patient all the time, my house would always be tidy, and I'd be a phenomenal cook. But according to these standards, I'm actually a colossal failure. I lose my patience daily, my house looks like a tornado blew through, and my cooking would make Rachael Ray grimace. I am not the mom I thought I'd be, and I'm willing to bet you're not, either. I heard from a friend recently who said, "I always wanted kids and never...