Hello, my name is Maren, and I am a perfectionist.
A lot of you are too, so I know at least one person who reads this will get it.
Some days I wake up determined. I know what I want the day to be like. No, I know what I want my whole life to be like. Who I want to be, and how I want to do my job(s), how I want to magnify my calling as Mom/Wife/Homemaker. And I am excited. I know what I want, and I know how to do it, and I set a plan. I have energy and motivation, because the vision is so clear. You know the plan: Clean the whole house top to bottom, create and implement a daily cleaning plan that basically includes cleaning the whole house every day. Do fun stuff with the kids that challenges their creativity and knowledge, rearrange a room to be more efficient, make something crafty, take a gift to a hurting neighbor, and make a great dinner, always keeping up on the dishes. Today. Tomorrow we'll add to that.
And then I start to see flaws, or other things start to make my plan impossible, or at least difficult. I start to realize that years of not being or doing what I want can't be undone, and that my plan can't be achieved in one day. And I start to lose hope. I start to feel guilty. I start to feel like a failure, before I've tried.
Sometimes I let that win.
But sometimes I realize that it's okay that I have fallen short before, and I that I will again. But I can try, and it makes me more determined.
Sometimes I want to punch myself in the face for being stupid.
And some days instead of getting going on my plan for total life control and perfection, I sit and blog about it. It's a lot easier to deal with on paper (or screen) than in my head. So excuse me now, I am going to go try to find a happy balance between total control and perfection in me, my house, and my children; and staring at the computer all day doing nothing because I quit trying before I started.
Admit it, at least one of you could have posted this on your blog because it's true for MANY of us. We just don't want to acknowledge it, or at least admit it. And isn't it nice to know that you aren't alone?
A lot of you are too, so I know at least one person who reads this will get it.
Some days I wake up determined. I know what I want the day to be like. No, I know what I want my whole life to be like. Who I want to be, and how I want to do my job(s), how I want to magnify my calling as Mom/Wife/Homemaker. And I am excited. I know what I want, and I know how to do it, and I set a plan. I have energy and motivation, because the vision is so clear. You know the plan: Clean the whole house top to bottom, create and implement a daily cleaning plan that basically includes cleaning the whole house every day. Do fun stuff with the kids that challenges their creativity and knowledge, rearrange a room to be more efficient, make something crafty, take a gift to a hurting neighbor, and make a great dinner, always keeping up on the dishes. Today. Tomorrow we'll add to that.
And then I start to see flaws, or other things start to make my plan impossible, or at least difficult. I start to realize that years of not being or doing what I want can't be undone, and that my plan can't be achieved in one day. And I start to lose hope. I start to feel guilty. I start to feel like a failure, before I've tried.
Sometimes I let that win.
But sometimes I realize that it's okay that I have fallen short before, and I that I will again. But I can try, and it makes me more determined.
Sometimes I want to punch myself in the face for being stupid.
And some days instead of getting going on my plan for total life control and perfection, I sit and blog about it. It's a lot easier to deal with on paper (or screen) than in my head. So excuse me now, I am going to go try to find a happy balance between total control and perfection in me, my house, and my children; and staring at the computer all day doing nothing because I quit trying before I started.
Admit it, at least one of you could have posted this on your blog because it's true for MANY of us. We just don't want to acknowledge it, or at least admit it. And isn't it nice to know that you aren't alone?
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