Not Perfect and Almost Proud

Hi friends. It’s been awhile. Between selling my house, downsizing to an apartment, moving my family to a new city, and then going on a much needed vacation, I completely neglected this blog, and my writing and personal interests in general.

My mind often swims with shoulds. Things that I “should be doing” or things that “should have been done” or things that “still need to be dealt with”. I think about all the ways I’m somehow ruining my kids lives or that I am setting a bad example. And then I start to feel sorry for my husband that he has such an inept woman for a wife and sorry for my kids that they aren’t getting enough of me. No one ever gets enough of me, in my opinion. There isn’t enough of me to give to everyone and still have time for myself.

I sometimes compare myself to every other mother/wife. Moms I know, moms I don’t know, moms I love, moms I’ve made up in my head. P.S. The ones in my head are always far more perfect and put together than me. I have struggled with this kind of thinking/comparing many times, although in all honestly it happens less and less the more life I live.

My house is a wreck. My apartment that is. My apartment feels like a wreck, and my old house felt like a wreck at the end, and it feels like I have been living in the midst of turmoil for weeks. There are toys everywhere. The dishes are piled up. There are garbage bags galore. Boxes and suitcases are still stacked all around. Clothing strewn on the floor. If someone saw this, I would be mortified. I also hate the thought thatt my kids would grow up thinking this kind of mess is normal.

Not Perfect bedroom

My floors are full of dirt and dust. My baby sits on my kitchen floor eating bits of garbage and three-week-old crumbs of who knows what. I hope she doesn’t come across one of her allergens :S

I feel terrible for Mr. Right. He is working all day to come home to a disorganized and dirty house. How is he supposed to feel at peace in this mess? Truth be told, that’s all in my head. I’m lucky enough to have a Mr. Right who doesn’t care too much about that sort of thing. I’m the one that cares. I’m the one who wants the house to be perfect for him. And the kids. And me.

For the few weeks during the move, I didn’t cook. My family subsided on sandwiches, Kraft dinner, and fruit, while other families were eating braised tenderloin, roasted fingerling potatoes and baby spinach salads with homemade dressing. That’s what facebook told me.

I have spent most of my life as an anxious person. I probably have higher expectations of myself than ANYONE else does. This sort of thing normally DRIVES ME CRAZY. Up until recently all of the above scenarios would have made me incredibly unhappy, incredibly anxious, incredibly insecure, and an all-around miserable person to be around.

I’m not certain how my perspective changed on all of it, and I definitely can’t pinpoint when it happened. All I know is that for some reason it affects me less right now. It’s not that it doesn’t affect me at all. It does. It’s just that I can still focus on where I want to be and where we are heading and that makes me happy and less bogged down by the current situation. Part of it I think came from wanting to simplify my life in other areas. You know, get rid of things that aren’t important to make room for things that are. That goal is still a work in progress and I get the feeling that it will forever be a work in progress, but I think that that mind set has seeped into other areas of my life. Sure, I’m not going to have a dinner party if my house is a wreck, but I also won’t be losing sleep over it. It’s not that important.

And I’m happier and a bit calmer in my anxious heart.

I’ve realized that it’s more important and beneficial to me and my families well-being if I am just present in the way I want to be present ~ whether that’s reading with the kids or whether that’s wasting away in front of my computer. If I embrace my choice, whatever it might be, I feel more “whole” than when I am striving for my own definition of perfection ( a clean house and a gourmet meal).

My kids freaking adore me. They don’t even know that I’m not perfect. Mr. Right just finished telling me that he is feeling very uxorious and then told me to look it up. He’s amazing. So lately, I have taken my cues from them and given myself the same loving kindness, cut myself some slack, and saved my sanity during this whole transition in the process. I have the best family.