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I've always had a thing for perfection, or at least as long as I can remember. Not necessarily achieving or creating it, but maintaining the illusion of it. As long as things appeared put together, clean, creative, tidy, then I considered things perfect. Laboring over school essays, staying up late to frame art projects, using quarts of white-out and adding extra illustrations, taking on the roles of decorator, organizer, designer, finisher, planner ... the list is endless. The pursuit of perfection has been my downfall many times, my nemesis often, and my claim to fame never.
It really started to fall apart when I got married. Compromise, blending, sharing, and cooperating all took a large bite out of MY image of perfection, but I fought it valiantly for awhile, including misguided attempts to “perfect” my husband! Then came my first pregnancy, and something clicked. Perhaps something broke actually, as my body grew larger, and I could do nothing but experience the changes from almost a bystanders point of view. I had no control over it, I disliked how I looked and felt, and then I had a flash of understanding that had escaped me until I was locked into those 9 long months. The
experience
was the important part, not the image, or really even the goal. Simply taking every situation and change thrown my way, and feeling it to my core. That's my current definition of perfection.
As parents, we suddenly have this addition to our image, our children, that we feel reflects directly on us, and to a huge degree it does. But if we tie our kids too closely to us, and expect too much, we set them (and us) up for many disappointments and arguments. Setting expectations of them is critical, and good, but beware of setting them too high. We often raise our self-expectations too when the kids come along. In addition to being successful at our jobs and relationships, we now have to be successful parents and caregivers to small needy bundles of life. We strive for alpha-mom or super-dad status, add huge new chunks of responsibility without shedding many old ones, and feel guilty when we miss out or fail in some way. Which we do all the time! Can we accept it and move on?
There are no perfect parents.
None. Great ones perhaps, some that might appear nearly perfect, but they aren't. Every parent misses things, forgets things, loses things, and gets angry, careless, and tired. We ALL do! We are a work in progress every bit as much as our kids are ... we learn daily how to be their parents just as they learn to be our best kids! Perfection in life is NOT about image, appearances, achievements, or bank balances.
It's about doing the best we can with what we have, and measuring success by the peace in our hearts and the growth in our ability to enjoy absolutely everything.
Living fully: that's perfection. Trying to live perfectly? That's madness!
In the interest of sharing imperfections, that's me with mutant potato in the photo above, posing for my husband. I dislike the photo intensely, but that was how I felt that day!