Ego, ergo

Stupid question: Does anybody ever succeed in getting away from her ego? I mean, without going off to be a nun or a monk or run an orphanage or something. Does anyone who ends up staying put, and picking her kids' noses and cleaning up the cherry pits that the 3-year-old keeps spitting on the floor under the table, and trying to get the 6-year old to understand that he needs to quit interrupting, and putting the cold cloths on their heads at night and trying to decide if setting an alarm system on the doors counter-balances the open second-story windows, and cleaning out the cat box--that chick--does she ever figure out how to forget about whether people like her or like her kids or think that her house is clean enough or that she's clever enough or all those other stupid things that get in the way of just being satisfied? So maybe she could quit staring up at the dark air above her head at night and wondering why she can't just be a good enough mother or daughter or friend or whatever the hell else?

I think if I could quit caring about all that shit, I could do anything. But I don't know how to quit. I keep thinking I know, but then I fuck it up. I want everyone to think I'm this funny, smart, attractive woman with these well-behaved brilliant children. Which is just the most destructive want I can think of. Stupid, stupid, and impossible, and embarrassing, and just awful.