Boogers on the Wall

I have finally come to grips with the fact that I need to chill the heck out. As a mother, as a wife, as a person.

I’ve lived my 33 years worrying about being good enough; striving for perfection. And I can’t keep it up anymore.

Sometimes, most times, perfection isn’t best. Most times it isn’t possible. So why do I keep killing myself and beating myself up for something that isn’t natural or even practical?

A couple of weeks ago I was running around helping my kids do several things in the hour window of time that we have together on the days when I have night-time photography school. It was third grade business day the next day and my son informed me that he needed a sign to go with the dozens of crafts we made for him to sale.

I didn’t have a lot of time to make him a sign but I whipped out the computer and started designing. I couldn’t find the Harry Potter font to go with his Wonderful Wizard Shop name and I was running out of time.

I was stressed.

I finally found it right before I needed to leave for school. I hurried and typed up a sign and printed it off for him to glue onto a poster. He took one glance at it and I could tell it wasn’t what he wanted.

Ugh. I had just wasted the little time that I had.

I took a deep breath and we talked about what he really wanted. He wanted to draw a sign. He wanted to do it himself. He didn’t need me. He didn’t need my fancy font and printed page. A hand-drawn, third-grade written poster was what he wanted. And it was perfect.

Sometimes I get into the habit of thinking things need to be fancy. They need to be typed up and packaged precisely. They need to be crisp and clean and professional.

But looking at that hand-drawn sign made me realize I am wrong. It was far better than the one I made. Sure it wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect for what it was for.

I need to stop searching for the perfect font and the printed sign. I need to stop stressing that my house isn’t clean and my flowerbeds have weeds. I can’t control half of the stuff that worries me or stresses me so I need to chill the heck out.

I wish I could wrap my arms around myself and somehow reassure me that I’m good enough. That I can sit and breathe life in without worrying that I’m not accomplishing enough or that I’m not meeting everyone’s expectations. I need to learn to sit still. I need to learn to let others in my family sit still.

But my mind and heart keep having a disconnect.

So I’m going to work on me for a little while. I’m going to work on feeling like I am enough. I’m going to  get professional help talking to a counselor about why I feel like I’m not.

And I’m hoping and praying that I can learn to let go. Let go of the stress, worry and fear. Let go and love my imperfections.

I’m going to let go until I can realize that I am just like my son’s third-grade sign, I may not be perfect, but I’m perfect for what I am for.