I am not perfect.
That wasn’t really hard to say, sitting here in my living room, but it is hard to admit, in writing, to all of you.
I fail. Sometimes frequently.
Lately all the time.
I fail because I am juggling too many things, trying to work from home, and attempting to give my kids a “summer”. There are so many things, and all I do is pass the balls from one hand to another, never actually settling on any one of them long enough to accomplish anything.
I fail because I am human, and sometimes the smallest thing sets me off. I get frustrated, angry, sad, and scared, and then I take it out on anyone I have access to.
I fail because I am also innately selfish. I want MY time. My stuff. Mine, mine, mine. I want that 30 minutes on the beach to close my eyes and just breathe. I want to have that glass of wine and not worry about my waistline. I want to watch something PG rated JUST ONCE this summer.
I fail because I fear that I am not enough. I’m not working hard enough. I am not creating anything extraordinary. I am not doing THAT, or THAT, or even that thing that that other person is doing. Am I missing out? Am I failing? Could I be smarter/faster/wiser? Will I improve, or is this the slippery slope down to the end?
I fail because summer is long, and I layer the stress and “to-do” lists one on top of another until there is no room to breath. There is more things NOT done, than done, and every day the list gets longer. I fail because I am fighting for the peace and freedom of long summer days, all while holding back the rhythm of life as it constantly bangs at the door.
But mostly I am failing because I tell myself I am failing.
Instead I could decide that going for ANOTHER swim with my son is more valuable than those few pages, and that in a few short hours hubby will meet us at the lake and I WILL be able to close my eyes for a moment. I could say that even though I am only working >this< much, I am still working and paying bills and building a business. I could accept the fact that perhaps the pure enjoyment of an ice cream cone, glass of wine and chocolate brownie is WORTH the waistline, or that yes, one day I will wake up and have all the hours in the day waiting for me to fill. I could trust that I am in the right place, doing the right thing, and at the right time. I could relax and just do my very best, never knowing if that will be enough, but believing it is the only thing I can do. I could ask for help. Or say no to “all the things” I could take my time when I need it, and be present when I say I will. I could look at the calendar and see that, yes the days ARE in fact ticking off closer to back to school. Yes, I could do all that. I could wake up and decide that I am not failing, even though I snapped at the kids, and didn’t defrost anything for dinner. I could cut myself some slack and recognize that every moment that I see as a failure is just another opportunity to turn it around and do better. I could admit defeat, and succumb to kids and summer for just right now, and then work on balancing again tomorrow. I could take a minute, just one, and close my eyes, and picture my beautiful family, happy friends and comfortable home. I could remind myself that all my worries, fears and failures are not real problems and that we are happy and healthy and have full control over every moment of our lives. That my first world problems are not problems at all. Yes. I think I will do that. (This post originally ran on 3 Chickens and a Boat.)