Under Pressure

I have talked about my intense desire to have complete control over my child. To have her act and behave the way that I know that she can. To showcase the brilliance of her mind, the talent and personality of her being.

But she is 3.

And it's not fair to her that I need for her to be a perfect representation of my not-so perfect parenting. It's not fair to her that I need her to be better, smarter, cuter than everyone else's kid.

Those are my faults, my needs, my desires and it is not healthy.

I am the one that needs to feel like everything is perfect, that needs to feel like my hard work is not in vain, that needs to know that my facade is intact and that the cracks do not show all of the imperfectness that lies so close to the surface.

I have said it before and I will say it again. I am not perfect. My child and my marriage are not perfect. Our life is messy and loud.

And I need to start living my life - and raising my child - in a manner that truly reflects these things. I will never be perfect. Neither will my child.

But saying these things, meaning these things, putting them into practice is easier said than done for a perfectionist Type-A personality like me.

I am going to try. I am going to change the way that I speak to her, the way I get angry over the small things, the way that I deal with her.

Because she is 3.

And she deserves to be a kid. You spend the majority of your life in adulthood, there are precious few years that you are allowed to be a kid. Every child should get to behave as one for as long as they possibly can.

The cycle of trying to attain a perfection that is not real, and an ideal that can never be reached ends here.

I'm not perfect.

No I'm not.

I'm not perfect, but I've got what I've got

I do my very best

I do my very best

I do my very best each day

But I'm not perfect

And I hope that you like me that way. 

 ~From "I'm Not Perfect" Laurie Berkner (she's kind of my hero)