A Pinterest perfect life. That’s what I have strived for and berated myself with a hideous inner dialogue for not achieving it, for years. Before “Pinterest perfect” was even a thing, it’s what I wanted.
I would be the Mom with the super organized home, the DIY wedding and birthday parties, the home-cooked nutritional meals every night by five, the Mom who read stories every night to her sweet little angels and went on outings with them and taught them yoga. I’d be the patient wife who did all her household duties without complaint.
I am not that Mom. And I am not that wife. And that’s ok.
I struggled this Christmas season and wished nothing more than a swift end to it all. I couldn’t keep up with the decorating or baking. I couldn’t make my brain fit in all the planning. The budget has been a miserable affair. I was snitty and impatient and, in general, terrible to be around. I shoved everything I could down as deep as possible, but it just refuses to stay there. Like little demons bubbling up from your gut and spilling off your lips, spewing hate and discontent where you had only wanted to spread love and joy.
But this year as I grappled with the utterly shocking fact that I am utterly afflicted in a negative way by the season I say I love the most, I learned something so very important. I am not that Mom and I am not that wife, and that is ok. What does this mean?
It means joyfully thanking my kids and spouse when they help around the house instead of saying “you missed a spot” and “this doesn’t go here!” It means no grumbling or long suffering sighs when I get help. It means less blame and more please and thank you so much! More you did a great job honey, thank you for sweeping the floor! More you worked so hard on that room, good job! With less stuff it’s going to be even easier!
As it is every year, there is much talk and many articles regarding resolutions and what we want for our lives. I saw a few things that very much resonated with me, things about one word and minimalism. Mainly, I hope to continue to find ways to be more courageous, more loving, and more peaceful. I hope to always remember that even though I may suddenly find myself looking at the world through hazy, gray colored lenses, I will always continue to notice they’ve been placed upon my nose unwittingly, and remember to take them off again. I wish you all the ability to keep finding joy even when your heart is heavy and your mind is numb. When it feels so big, all we really can do is practice finding one beautiful thing in each day. Keep practicing, as will I. And until then, I wish you well.