Embracing Imperfection

My original goal when I started this blogging adventure was to find a way to be held accountable for trying to get myself and the kids organized.  I think that was a noble goal but I've realized that all that's really come out of it is that I'm starting to realize that I'm a little bit (maybe even a lot) crazy.  Every night I lay awake thinking about all the things left on my to-do list and I can't figure out why I can't seem to get on top of them.  It doesn't seem like it should be that difficult and yet, it is.

Have you heard that story about the grasshopper and the ant? Basically it defines two types of people.  Lousia Plummer, a modern day author had a unique take on the story.  First, there is the ant who is an industrial, hard working soul.  The ant's home is always tidy.  Her children eat home cooked meals every night, never have to scrounge through the sock basket for two socks that match and  every evening their homework is done, piano practicing is complete and all 12 of them are in bed on time. (Or something like that.)

Then there is the grasshopper.  The grasshopper is the opposite of the ant.  Her house is messy but that's because she's neck deep in finger painting with her toddler, baking bread for a sick neighbor and writing the script for the upcoming school play.

The moral of this modern day story is that even though the grasshopper and the ant are different--they both have a lot to offer and neither one is "better" than the other one.  I really love that idea and I've spent a lot of time thinking about which one I am and I've come to the conclusion that I'm neither.  I'm a gnat.  You know--those little bugs that are easily distracted, attracted to the light and seem to congregate over a recently shampooed head of hair?  Case in point:

This morning I headed out to the gym with two goals in mind.  First, I needed a work out.  Secondly, I had a Weight Watchers meeting to lead in a couple of hours and I still hadn't prepared so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and burn a bunch of calories on the eliptical while studying up for my job.  This was a good plan that went completely out the window when I walked by the aerobics room and heard some funky music playing which sounded like a whole lot more fun than the original plan.  So, like one of those pesky gnats drawn to light I made a bee line for "Belly Fit."

Now, if you have not had the pleasure of experiencing "Belly Fit" I will explain.  Its sort of like a cross between aerobics and yoga with a whole lot of flower child, mumbo jumbo thrown in.  I'm really not the new age type but like I said, it had some funky music that was calling to me.  So there I was, "throwing my earth fireball" and "stirring my pot of energy" (I am not making that up) and thinking about why I can't seem to get my act together.  This went on for the next hour and the whole time I'm trying to "unleash my inner goddess" I'm thinking, "forget the inner goddess I just want to know why does an organized life seem to elude me?"  What is the solution?  And then, as I lay on the floor at the end of my work out (you know it's a good class when you get to practically take a nap at the end) I  got in touch with my "heart center", "embraced my imperfection" and attempted to accept it.

I'm probably not ever going to have a perfectly clean house.  It's not going to be look like it came out of a home decorator magazine.  There, I said it.  The chances of that happening are pretty much nil--unless I get a live in housekeeper.  Which I'm like 99.9% sure will never happen.  And I'm going to have to be ok with that.  My life is busy--and not just busy but full.  Full of kids and teenagers, and band boosters and church assignments, and service and work and dates and Baja Fresh.  And happiness.  A whole lot of happiness:-)

I'm not giving up--I'm just going to try to not be so hard on myself.  There's loads of room for improvement --but I'm going to try to be ok with small gains--like matched socks--instead of a complete overhaul.  And who knows?  Maybe all those small gains will add up--to a whole laundry room full of folded clothes.  In the meantime maybe stirring my pot of energy wasn't a bad way to spend my morning after all.  I'll get in touch with my happiness chakra and get back to you.


P.S. I know you've all been kept up at night worrying about that smell in my den.  I know I was--I had visions of dead rats or raccoons or worse under my floorboards.  Dave, being the manly man that he is braved the crawl space and happily reported that there was nothing under there.  In the end, it ended up being our surge protector--how weird is that?  Jordan figured it out--he came in, took one smell and said it smelled like moldy electronics.  (How he knows what the smells like, I have no idea) but there you have it.  $24 later we had a new cord and the smell was gone.