I Have a Confession to Make

by Lisa Douglas

I have a confession, and I’m going to let you all in on something. My secret:

Despite my attempts to be everything I want to be, I am not perfect. In fact, I’m not even close. I fail miserably. Daily.

Each day presents itself full of promise and wonderment and potential for joy and a perfectedness which I try to achieve daily.

Today, I shall do ALL the laundry!

Today, I shall clean ALL the house!

Today, I will shower, and brush my teeth, and put on deodorant, and wash my face with something other than my sleeve (if I’m lucky)!

Today, I will cook wonderful meals, and have the dishes done and kitchen cleaned before I sit down for the night!

Today, the kids will have their homework done in record time! There will be no fighting, no arguing, no prodding or poking or ninja-kicking a kid to the table, nor any stapling them to their seat to finish.

Today, I will not get mad at ANY child! Or when the baby is so fussy I can’t put her down, I will keep my cool. I will not get upset at the constant up-down-up-down, and my back will not hurt. I will smile through it instead of grit my teeth and hope for a longer-than-normal nap.

Today, I will get everything done and I will have LOADS of time to work out!

Today, everything I type will be perfection and will not require repeated editing, because my jedi ability to read minds will be strong.

Today, I will write prolific parenting posts that will resonate with everyone and I will have hoards of commenters who all agree and commiserate with everything I said and we shall laugh and cry together through our computer screens.

And I aim for ALL OF THOSE THINGS daily, but rarely do I ever get ’em all checked off my list. But I TRY. I try, because I don’t know how to fail by failing to try.

And it’s hard. OH SO VERY HARD. They don’t tell you how much kids will chew you up and spit you out when you’re so busy oohing and ahhing over your newborn in the hospital.

And that whole, working-and-staying-home thing isn’t for the faintest of hearts, people. My gray hairs on my head prove that.

But each day, I’m going to wake up and still try my hardest to be perfect, even if I will fail. I’d rather shoot for the moon and reach a cloud than shoot for the cloud and get stuck in a tree. No compromise for me, you know?

But lots of coffee. Ohsoverymuchcoffee.

What about you? Are you like this, too? Do you try to do too much? Are you a perfectionist, stubborn mule like me?

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