...As I assume most people are to some extent.
I always thought that at some point I would reinvent myself to be a more carefree individual, that I could somehow trick my soul into following a go-with-the flow spirit. Eventually, I learned that my soul knew me better than I know myself. A life of carefree"ness" was just not written in my book.
Growing up, I was the first born and with that, I think came this inherit need for perfection. For this so-called persona to be manifested, orderly and well-kept routines needed to be in check at all times. My parents recognized this need for stability and at the young age of ten they bestowed upon me my first Dayplanner. nerdy, yes? I often bragged to my friends about my new scheduled life and the tool that helped to make it possible. I often stated in a matter-of-fact tone that "I would love to come over to play, but first I needed to check my Dayplanner schedule." ...Because we all know how full of a schedule a 6th grader can have...
Perfection was this illusion that I strove for in school as well as at home. I remember watching Cinderella as a child and admiring how clean and minimal her room seemed to be--let's not forget her evil Stepmother sentenced her to a life of servitude. But I wanted her minimal life! I was driven by routines, well established rules, and a structured lifestyle. As I grew older, in the back of my mind I would always tell myself, "I will be ready for marriage when I have graduated from college, have a career that I love and the money to pay for my own wedding--if I have those things my life will be right on track--then I can share my life with someone else."
As with most of our lives, reality didn't seem to work out the way. Marriage came and we were dirt poor--so poor that for a good portion of the first year we bought groceries exclusively from the canned food section with gift cards from our wedding. Graduate school came and went with the hopes of high paying jobs, which were soon over shadowed by Brecken's early birth and, not long after, Addison's arrival as well. God then granted me with two child who would defy all odds and not want naps starting at an early age. Soon my desire and need for perfectly maintained routines were replaced with erratic schedules, sleep deprivation, over-indulging in chocolate and snot-covered clothing.
The Dayplanner has long been retired and now has been replaced with a refrigerator calender that looks more like an elaborate algebra problem--full of scribbles, doctor appointments, grocery lists, and play groups. Motherhood has taken it's toll, while my mind may not be a sharp, and my fashion may be last season, a new sort of perfection has arisen from the piles of dirty laundry in the form of a little boy and little girl that call my Mom.
For me, admitting to being imperfect at motherhood has become perfection.