I'm an anxious nut.

I'm an overanalyzing, semi-disorganized, creative, outgoing, introvert of a person who likes to be in control.

If I'm ever asked what is the hardest part of being a mother, for me, the answer is always the "fly by the seat of your pants" nature of it.

All of my best-laid plans go to shiitake, each day.

And, this is because, on any given day, it is more than likely I will have at least one child with an unidentifiable rash, an uncontrollable cough, a missed nap, a poor attitude or a last-minute school project to tackle.

And any (or all) of that will lead me to forget that the laundry needed to be switched and folded, that I was supposed to send out that class sign-up, that I was supposed to order XYZ for the hubs and that I still need a shower.

Ugh! What's that smell?

Me.

Fabulous.

At age 33, with three kids, I have a general plan and goal for my life over the next few years.

I want to be a great mom and a present one. I want for my children to turn into amazing adults who feel worthy, live their values, use their talents, feed their passions, and who feel gratitude daily, and as a result, give back to the world and the people in it who encourage and inspire them.

I want to be healthy -- physically and mentally. I want to get my body into it's best shape while ensuring that I also take care of my emotional needs, make time for self-care and try to be more mindful of the seemingly ordinary.

I want to have a strong marriage; one that I tend to even when it's challenging and I feel depleted. I want a relationship that feels comfortable, yet exciting and exhilarating, but not exhausting.

I want to write. Boy, do I want to write! I have become to so in love with sharing my story that it's hard to spend time doing anything but that. For me, sitting down at my keyboard, it's like visiting a therapist and while most would find it laughable that I want to be therapy every moment of my day, the truth is, putting my thoughts and feelings onto WordPress or Facebook and then launching them into the great unknown, it makes me feel strong, powerful and courageous.

Heck, it makes me feel like Superwoman.

And, quite frankly, on the daily, when I am not "Writer" Nicole and am just "Mommy" or Nicole "the Wife," I feel a lot less like a dynamic, all-powerful warrior.

Goodness knows, I sure as heck don't look like one either, with my unwashed hair in an uncute, messy bun, my can-you-tell-I-just-wiped-my-son's-snot-with-it, shirt (yuck, I know, but those giant sneezes always happen when I don't have a tissue handy) and my rotation of high-waisted, black leggings and dated maxi skirts.

So, every day, there's me, this feeling of being overwhelmed by my roles, duties, and desires, and plenty of indecisiveness when it comes to where to put my time and energy.

Take last night and this morning, for example.

Spring break just ended for us, and my house is in complete disarray. The floors, the walls, the counters, the toilets (OMG, the toilets) they all need a really good cleaning. The laundry pile is ridiculous and the next few weeks at my kids' schools are jam-packed with theme days and things I need to volunteer at.

In my semi-freaked-out-over-it-all state, I resigned myself to the fact that I would skip the gym today and get my life in order.

I woke up avowing the same.

But, then something happened.

I changed my mind.

I decided the gym was where I wanted to head after drop-off this morning and so there I went.

I came home and now look where I'm at, back at my computer.

I haven't touched a cleaning product, the laundry, the dirty dishes in the sink or even taken out the trash which has piled up.

So, I guess I've kind of failed at getting my life in order, per yesterday evening's plan, huh?

Or, have I?

As I drove home from my workout class, I started to think maybe I should enforce a "one-a-day" rule for myself.

By this, I mean that I choose to focus on one thing each day, for example:

Monday: Gym
Tuesday: Writing
Wednesday: Self-Care
Thursday: Kids
Friday: Housework

Maybe that will work, I think?

Or, perhaps it won't.

I like the idea of one-a-day, and I think it is a legitimate way to day-block and focus on my goals, but I think there's a better alternative.

What if instead of forcing myself into this "I've got to give each day my 'all or nothing,'" I instill and encourage in myself a belief that "a little bit here, and a little bit there" is better and more productive than being all in or all out.

While tackling life one-day-at-a-time with a single-focus seems ideal, it's not realistic, and it'll probably get pretty boring, real quick.

So here's my commitment -- to myself and you all -- to let the only "one-a-day" rule in my life be that I'll only let myself wallow in guilt or feel that I'm somehow "lacking," for one minute a day.

That's only sixty seconds of feeling sheepish about my self-diagnosed imperfections.

Then, what I'll do, is put on my big girl, Superhero panties and dominate each week and the days that make it up by merely being the everyday champion I already am as a woman, wife, mother, and writer who's trying to give her best each day.

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