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Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Imperfection

I stepped into the shower this morning, 2 days before my highly anticipated Christmas gathering with my family - the first time in many years we have gotten together to celebrate Christmas, and this little voice sang to me "It's not going to be perfect, you know.  I'm so glad you're finally past that shit."

First, I love my guides and my angels.  They say it to me like it is and in my language!

They're right.  I am past that shit.

I have a huge home.  I have a child, a husband - which at times equates to three children, a dog that sheds her entire coat of brown hair daily - I swear it!  A full time job.  Laundry, cooking, and helping with homework. And a voracious reading habit.  I also hear spirits in my spare time.  So?

Perfection.  Is.  An.  Illusion.

It's the blanket we pull over our mess and we pray to GOD that no one pulls that cover back and lays all of our shit bare  Plain and simple. It's a cover, a gloss.  It does not exist in its true form.  Plain and simple, it's bullshit.

My house isn't as clean and organized as it once was, as a matter of fact, we left this morning with a full blown parade on the floor in the den.  It's a guarantee that anything you eat or drink will have at least one brown dog hair in it - I promise you she's clean!  Your white socks won't stay white at  my house but, I'll gladly bleach them back for you.  But, you know what, my coffee pot is always on and I'd love nothing more than to sit with you in my living room where my furniture is covered with blankets to keep the hair somewhat under control, and catch up, or talk about books while our kids play.

It's not important to me any more.  Perfection is not my priority.  Living my life is.

Imperfection is important.  Enjoying my husband and my child.  Helping with homework and laughter.  That's important.  Snuggling under a blanket and watching a cheesy kid movie, that is important.  Big, slobbery, wet bologna dog kisses are important.

And you know what else?  I yell less.  I don't get upset as often.  Since I gave up on this illusion of perfect, I'm happier!  A happier mom makes a happier family!  Imagine that!!  And you know what else?  My husband doesn't make smart ass comments like "Would you like to iron these sheets before we sleep on them?" anymore.

Look, I'm not saying I've thrown it all out the window - not at all.  We'll take the blankets off the couch for this weekend, vacuum the masses of brown hair, clean the shower, etc.  I'm cooking a ham and potatoes but, I'm not cooking a seven course meal.  I'm done with the useless shit like making sure Jacob's dresser drawers are straightened or my basement pantry is alphabetically aligned before company comes.  No one cares.

I've realized that I'm much happier now that I'm not perfect.  I don't want to be "perfect" again.

1 comment:

  1. I love this. And am taking it to heart. I hope you had a nice celebration with your family!

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