~Lingering feelings of guilt over deeds done long ago
~A sudden urge to wear pearls and heels while doing household chores
~A feverish notion that "if I was a stay-at-home-mom" I'd be organized
~Blurry vision resulting from looking at perfect Pinterest homes
The symptoms, recurring often in my home, started this morning when the youngest child informed me that he needed lunch money, again. I tell myself that the perfect family would've known and anticipated this need. Then, as I write the check out, I am reminded that the so-called budget still isn't in writing and really, I need to get that checkbook register in order. From March. (At least it's within the current year.)
The kids leave, without me making them a proper nutritious breakfast, "the most important meal of the day". Did they eat at all? I tell myself that the perfect mom would've made something involving at least a few of the food groups or at the very least, had healthy, homemade breakfast sandwiches in the freezer. Or a banana that wasn't overripe, or an apple that was still crisp.
The house is quiet since they left. I hope they remembered everything. The school secretary probably thinks I need my own personal dropbox for all the items I need to bring to the school that are forgotten. Music instruments, volleyball warm-ups, volleyball socks, cash for field trips, snacks for parties, and ingredients for Home Economics.
Of course, I know where they get their forgetfulness from. Last evening, after the game, I was running to Meyersdale to get the aforementioned home-ec ingredients (I had forgotten the list and needed to call home to get it) and forgot to get treats for the Senior girls on the team for Senior Night. So, when I really just wanted to be done, at home and in bed, I was going to have to go back in and get the candy bars. I tell myself that the perfect family would've had a stash in the pantry for moments such as this.
Now, I notice the refrigerator isn't closing properly so I go to check it out. Inside I find a container, never opened, of baby spinach now languishing miserably that is causing the door to jam. I tell myself that the perfect family, the perfect mom would've eaten this already because she is healthy and cooks healthy for her family. Instead, I am tossing McDonalds wrappers from my car from yesterday's busyness. Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Really, I could go on here for a long time about "the perfect family" that is in my mind; the one that I can never measure up too. You know, the one who takes her daughter with a rash to the doctor the day it appears instead of waiting and the school nurse calling me to see if I was aware of it. You know, that one. (As it turns out, when the nurse called the second time, I could say that she had been seen, was on Prednisone and yes, I was aware. Score!) Being a nurse and a mother, I felt the guilt of this one even more, like I was being scolded. Tsk tsk, you of all people should know better. What were you thinking sending this miserable itching child to school?
I could be quite discouraged. I can remember back to when my children were all smaller, messier and less helpful and I think that my thoughts went something like this: "When they get older, I'll have the house clean all the time and we'll have more time to eat together and be together."
What?!?!?!
Those of you with older children, teenagers, college-aged young adults living at home know this is not the case. At all.
Unless, we really are the only family that doesn't "have it all together." Please, tell me it isn't so.
But now, it's time to clear the vision, banish the guilt, and get feverish about something productive.
There is no such thing as a perfect family. There are bits and pieces from many families that I see that I would like to be like, but I'll bet that if I lived with them, unseen, for a week I'd see things differently. Maybe on the outside, someone sees my family as The Perfect Family. And if I think about it, in some ways we are.
We forgive each others shortcomings.
We extend grace to each other when it's not always deserved.
We laugh together.
We cry together.
We burp in front of each other.
We are real with each other.
My house may smell stinky sometimes, like when the garbage needs taken out or the basement gets water in it, but hey, that's what candles are for. And when we sit at the table laughing, you don't even notice.
My kids forget stuff for school, and I forget what I am forgetting most of the time, but we gift each other with grace and we don't forget the important things, like saying I love you at bedtime or anytime.
We don't have an organized house (at least from outward appearances!) but it works for us, most days. And if I really did have it all organized and pretty, I 'd probably be grumpy and angry because I'd feel like I had to keep it that way and it would be impossible.
I can already feel the fever leaving, the guilt dissipating, the blurry vision clearing.
And what is that I see?
A Perfect Family, my family, amidst the mess, the chaos, and the busyness.
From one year (above photos) to the next, I'd say we clean up pretty nice! Just don't check Ryan's ears too close.
Love,
Dianne
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