Monday, October 11, 2010
Accept yourself as you are!
As moms, we tend to be so hard on ourselves. We usually don't expect other moms to be perfect, but for some insane reason, we want our lives to be so different from theirs. Maybe it's that we occasionally see the "perfect mom" (as if she's really out there) and we compare ourselves unfairly to her skin, to her paycheck, to her car, to her house, or to her family.
It's as if we're reverting to elementary school. Remember the days when you thought, "Oh if only I had that cool Atari game that so-and-so has?" Or, maybe you pined for Barbie's Dream-house or the entire set of Cabbage Patch dolls. I'm sure as a kid, you realized that you were actually happy without that next acquisition. But somehow as an adult, you linger for too long inside of that grave misconception.
At least, that's how I feel about myself sometimes. It's as if the commercials we see, the internet adds, and the billboards that follow us from one destination to the next all point to one depressing message: "You are not good enough unless you buy this or change that..." So, I'm here to remind you that you are fine just the way you are.
Recently, I hosted a birthday tea party for twelve ballerina fairies. I did my best to prepare the house the way I wanted it. The yard looked pretty good, except for those three things I just couldn't get done. The house looked nice but I wasn't able to clean it as well as I'd hoped. I put up most of the decorations I'd bought, but couldn't find time to put up the fuchsia pink streamers.
You see, the morning of the party, my middle kid snuggled into our bed at 5am asking me if I'd be at her t-ball game that morning. I told her I would have to skip it because I had to clean and decorate the house for the party. Thankfully, a few hours later, when we "officially" greeted the new day, I totally changed my mind about the whole thing.
I asked myself which I'd rather do: look like a Mrs. Cleaver perfect mom in front of my friends and relatives or support my daughter by cheering her on from the stands. Those additional two hours of sleep helped to clarify the matter; the choice was clear. I was going to the game.
I cheered like a psycho who was trying to develop laryngitis in one short hour. I hugged her. I put two Sesame Street band-aids on her elbow after she ate it while playing catcher. I told her the game wasn't official until there was blood. And I mingled with some other fans instead of mopping my kitchen floor. Instead of cleaning my downstairs bathroom. Instead of Windexing my sliding glass doors. Instead of sweeping my front porch.
My conclusion is twofold. I'm glad I made the choice that I did. But somehow, I'm still feeling self-conscious about what the other moms thought of me even though it's three days later. And I'm wondering why I care so much about what someone might have thought about my less than perfectly clean house. I'm also trying to convince myself that my true friends wouldn't judge me for how my house looked anyways.
The other thing about true friends is that as long as you serve them tasty food, they could care less about what your house looks like. So, that's what I did. I served hot dogs in a blanket, blue cheese and cranberry salad, broccoli and mushroom quiches, fresh strawberries and purple grapes, a plethora of cheeses and salami, heart-shaped cookies, lots of chocolate, and twelve different types of hot teas, along with apple juice for the kids.
So, if you are at a place where you are trying to be Mrs. Perfect by showing everyone how great you are, take a few days off. Instead of trying to look like "her" and act like "her" and drive what "she" drives, try to accept yourself for who you are; take a look at your own feet and try to enjoy the ones that God gave you. Take a deep breath and let go of the fabricated ideals that weigh you down.
I hope when others see me being real... they can relax and be themselves back to me as well. My make-up won't ever look like the magazines. My house will never have all the toys put away or all the frames dusted to perfection. Even after I sweep and mop, the kids seem to spill four cups of apple juice within two minutes anyways. My bathrooms refuse to stay clean even after using half of a container of Tilex. And my sweet Labrador sheds like she's trying to stuff a large pillow.
Here's the main challenge: enjoy who you are. And even though it's not easy for me, I'm trying to get better at it. I don't want to strive to be someone that I'm not. I want to be joyful for who I am now. I think getting a house-cleaner, a chauffeur, a cook, and a pet-groomer might help remove some of the pressure as well. But, for now, I'm gonna have to accept a more reasonable set of standards, so I can find peace with myself in the present.
Share your thoughts about what makes you comfortable in your own shoes. We'd love to hear from you. :)
It's as if we're reverting to elementary school. Remember the days when you thought, "Oh if only I had that cool Atari game that so-and-so has?" Or, maybe you pined for Barbie's Dream-house or the entire set of Cabbage Patch dolls. I'm sure as a kid, you realized that you were actually happy without that next acquisition. But somehow as an adult, you linger for too long inside of that grave misconception.
At least, that's how I feel about myself sometimes. It's as if the commercials we see, the internet adds, and the billboards that follow us from one destination to the next all point to one depressing message: "You are not good enough unless you buy this or change that..." So, I'm here to remind you that you are fine just the way you are.
Recently, I hosted a birthday tea party for twelve ballerina fairies. I did my best to prepare the house the way I wanted it. The yard looked pretty good, except for those three things I just couldn't get done. The house looked nice but I wasn't able to clean it as well as I'd hoped. I put up most of the decorations I'd bought, but couldn't find time to put up the fuchsia pink streamers.
You see, the morning of the party, my middle kid snuggled into our bed at 5am asking me if I'd be at her t-ball game that morning. I told her I would have to skip it because I had to clean and decorate the house for the party. Thankfully, a few hours later, when we "officially" greeted the new day, I totally changed my mind about the whole thing.
I asked myself which I'd rather do: look like a Mrs. Cleaver perfect mom in front of my friends and relatives or support my daughter by cheering her on from the stands. Those additional two hours of sleep helped to clarify the matter; the choice was clear. I was going to the game.
I cheered like a psycho who was trying to develop laryngitis in one short hour. I hugged her. I put two Sesame Street band-aids on her elbow after she ate it while playing catcher. I told her the game wasn't official until there was blood. And I mingled with some other fans instead of mopping my kitchen floor. Instead of cleaning my downstairs bathroom. Instead of Windexing my sliding glass doors. Instead of sweeping my front porch.
My conclusion is twofold. I'm glad I made the choice that I did. But somehow, I'm still feeling self-conscious about what the other moms thought of me even though it's three days later. And I'm wondering why I care so much about what someone might have thought about my less than perfectly clean house. I'm also trying to convince myself that my true friends wouldn't judge me for how my house looked anyways.
The other thing about true friends is that as long as you serve them tasty food, they could care less about what your house looks like. So, that's what I did. I served hot dogs in a blanket, blue cheese and cranberry salad, broccoli and mushroom quiches, fresh strawberries and purple grapes, a plethora of cheeses and salami, heart-shaped cookies, lots of chocolate, and twelve different types of hot teas, along with apple juice for the kids.
So, if you are at a place where you are trying to be Mrs. Perfect by showing everyone how great you are, take a few days off. Instead of trying to look like "her" and act like "her" and drive what "she" drives, try to accept yourself for who you are; take a look at your own feet and try to enjoy the ones that God gave you. Take a deep breath and let go of the fabricated ideals that weigh you down.
I hope when others see me being real... they can relax and be themselves back to me as well. My make-up won't ever look like the magazines. My house will never have all the toys put away or all the frames dusted to perfection. Even after I sweep and mop, the kids seem to spill four cups of apple juice within two minutes anyways. My bathrooms refuse to stay clean even after using half of a container of Tilex. And my sweet Labrador sheds like she's trying to stuff a large pillow.
Here's the main challenge: enjoy who you are. And even though it's not easy for me, I'm trying to get better at it. I don't want to strive to be someone that I'm not. I want to be joyful for who I am now. I think getting a house-cleaner, a chauffeur, a cook, and a pet-groomer might help remove some of the pressure as well. But, for now, I'm gonna have to accept a more reasonable set of standards, so I can find peace with myself in the present.
Share your thoughts about what makes you comfortable in your own shoes. We'd love to hear from you. :)
Labels: acceptance, friendship, moms, parenthood
Monday, April 12, 2010
Life is just hard...
Sometimes, life is just really hard. You might not feel like getting out of bed. That laundry pile that's starting to take over half of your room might get put off for one more day or week. The weeds may not get pulled at all this month. You might even put your kids in front of the television for an extra hour because you just can't deal with them right now. And guess what? It's ok.
When life feels overwhelming, sometimes you just need to accept yourself right where you're at. Instead of putting on an even bigger smile and brighter make-up to cover up what's going on in your heart, you need to keep things real.
Earlier today, I had a very honest conversation with a good friend. She shared about some difficulties going on in her life and I responded with a few of the struggles I'm having in mine as well. I always remind this friend of how I appreciate her sincerity.
As moms, I feel that we need to share that authenticity with one another. It's not a show or a competition, so there's no point in being fake with each other. We're all just doing our best to be good people and to get the most out of our short lives here on Earth. When going through a tough time, we're pretty much the same; we just need a good set of listening ears and a few big bear-hugs.
If you know someone who's going through a tough time, try to be there for her by sharing a few of your own struggles as well. Whether she's dealing with financial issues, loneliness, stress, emotional pain, or something else even bigger, just remind her that she's not alone. Even the people who look the best on the outside have got some cruddy stuff going on deep down. So, be real with them as well.
Try to take a gentler view of yourself too. Be a friend to yourself by remembering that it's ok to simply put things on hold for awhile to take care of yourself. Your washing machine might enjoy the break as well. And if you're too tired to cook, the fast food chains will love your business too. Pizza night, anyone?
Share how you've been there for a friend in need or how someone has served you during a difficult time. We'd love to hear from you.
When life feels overwhelming, sometimes you just need to accept yourself right where you're at. Instead of putting on an even bigger smile and brighter make-up to cover up what's going on in your heart, you need to keep things real.
Earlier today, I had a very honest conversation with a good friend. She shared about some difficulties going on in her life and I responded with a few of the struggles I'm having in mine as well. I always remind this friend of how I appreciate her sincerity.
As moms, I feel that we need to share that authenticity with one another. It's not a show or a competition, so there's no point in being fake with each other. We're all just doing our best to be good people and to get the most out of our short lives here on Earth. When going through a tough time, we're pretty much the same; we just need a good set of listening ears and a few big bear-hugs.
If you know someone who's going through a tough time, try to be there for her by sharing a few of your own struggles as well. Whether she's dealing with financial issues, loneliness, stress, emotional pain, or something else even bigger, just remind her that she's not alone. Even the people who look the best on the outside have got some cruddy stuff going on deep down. So, be real with them as well.
Try to take a gentler view of yourself too. Be a friend to yourself by remembering that it's ok to simply put things on hold for awhile to take care of yourself. Your washing machine might enjoy the break as well. And if you're too tired to cook, the fast food chains will love your business too. Pizza night, anyone?
Share how you've been there for a friend in need or how someone has served you during a difficult time. We'd love to hear from you.
Labels: difficulties, family, life, parenthood
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Worry Freak
Being a worry-freak is hard work, especially as a first-time parent. You’re already sleep-deprived and exhausted from all the food preparation, dirty laundry, and all the poopy diapers. I know I'm preaching to the choir, but why do first time parents stress out so much? Do you think the worrying really makes a difference?
You buy all the safety gear and have it in place before little Gracie even makes it home from the hospital. From socket covers to toilet locks, you're ready for battle. You research the best stroller, the safest car-seat, and the toughest car. Who cares if you have to get a second mortgage to finance it all? You won't need the baby gates for several months, but you purchase a few for good measure just in case they’re sold out when she does her first roly-poly roll. You've even painted her perfect pink room with organic paint, in case she decides to munch on it down the road.
Once she's landed on planet Earth, you begin to worry about everything from A to Z. Every germ cries out for a sanitizer wipe and even clean looking carpet becomes a feared enemy. Once she starts to toddle, you stress about all the germ-infested playground equipment at the park and the play-sets at the mall. Every sneeze or cough from a passerby provides a spooky tingle down your spine. You know you need to get out and socialize, but you feel obsessive compulsive about your ability to make it to normal social events because she might just get a cold or something worse, like the rainbow colored measles. At night, you hear every single noise through that magical box as you sprint like a cheetah to ensure that she’s not choking on her pediatric approved binky. You lie awake thinking, “Did I actually turn the stove off?"
Here's the thing about parenthood, you’re not actually in control. As a professional worrier, I’ve had to learn to trust God for my three kids over the years. After our son almost fell through my mom's two-story flight of stairs, I thanked God for sparing him. During our recent vacation, he almost drowned and we thanked God for alerting us in time. After our middle child ate the leg off of a glass starfish, we thanked God for protecting her body. When this same daughter went missing after pick-up from her preschool last year, God stepped in again. When our third child had difficulty breathing as a one-day old, we thanked God for getting her through the night. When she got bronchitis and pneumonia as a two-year-old, God came through again.
Do your best as a parent and remember that God is holding your little prince or angel even more carefully than you are. You can take a deep breath because He’s holding you as well. The upshot of all the crazy stories is that you’ll have a really funny rehearsal dinner some day when your baby gets married.
You buy all the safety gear and have it in place before little Gracie even makes it home from the hospital. From socket covers to toilet locks, you're ready for battle. You research the best stroller, the safest car-seat, and the toughest car. Who cares if you have to get a second mortgage to finance it all? You won't need the baby gates for several months, but you purchase a few for good measure just in case they’re sold out when she does her first roly-poly roll. You've even painted her perfect pink room with organic paint, in case she decides to munch on it down the road.
Once she's landed on planet Earth, you begin to worry about everything from A to Z. Every germ cries out for a sanitizer wipe and even clean looking carpet becomes a feared enemy. Once she starts to toddle, you stress about all the germ-infested playground equipment at the park and the play-sets at the mall. Every sneeze or cough from a passerby provides a spooky tingle down your spine. You know you need to get out and socialize, but you feel obsessive compulsive about your ability to make it to normal social events because she might just get a cold or something worse, like the rainbow colored measles. At night, you hear every single noise through that magical box as you sprint like a cheetah to ensure that she’s not choking on her pediatric approved binky. You lie awake thinking, “Did I actually turn the stove off?"
Here's the thing about parenthood, you’re not actually in control. As a professional worrier, I’ve had to learn to trust God for my three kids over the years. After our son almost fell through my mom's two-story flight of stairs, I thanked God for sparing him. During our recent vacation, he almost drowned and we thanked God for alerting us in time. After our middle child ate the leg off of a glass starfish, we thanked God for protecting her body. When this same daughter went missing after pick-up from her preschool last year, God stepped in again. When our third child had difficulty breathing as a one-day old, we thanked God for getting her through the night. When she got bronchitis and pneumonia as a two-year-old, God came through again.
Do your best as a parent and remember that God is holding your little prince or angel even more carefully than you are. You can take a deep breath because He’s holding you as well. The upshot of all the crazy stories is that you’ll have a really funny rehearsal dinner some day when your baby gets married.
Labels: parenthood, worry
