scariest job in the world

I generally think I have pretty good children. They are well-behaved. They get good grades. They will share with others. They are usually nice to everyone. They don't tend to get in trouble. I don't have a lot to complain about.

Then I have mornings like this one and I wonder where I've gone wrong in raising them.

I arose early this morning and made homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I thought that made me a pretty wonderful mom. I was almost ready for my children to fall at my feet thanking me for being the "Best Mom in the World". (I know how much they LOVE cinnamon rolls.)

Nope.

Instead I get a grumbled, "Mom, how soon will those be ready? I hate it when I have to grab one on my way out the door so I don't have time to brush my teeth."

Really? That's all you have to say?

Sometimes their ingratitude shocks me and I seriously begin to believe I have failed as a mother. Do my children have too much? What can I do to make them realize how incredibly blessed they are? They have food to eat and clothes to wear and a home to live in. Why can't they realize that alone is amazing? And don't even get me started on the fact that they have more than one pair of shoes or can go a week or more without doing their laundry. And, for now, they even all have their own room. Spoiled!

I toy with the idea of packing them all off to a major service project in a third world country so they can really see how well off we are comparatively. I think of making them list their blessings one by one until their hands are too tired to write anymore. I wonder what to do. How can I make them aware of and grateful for the myriad of blessings and privileges they enjoy every single day of their lives?

Sometimes being a mother is the hardest, scariest job in the world. Will I ever get it right?