Good morning, y'all!
Let me tell you a liiiittle secret: I. am. a. PERFECTIONIST. This is certainly no surprise if you know me well. Call it what you will (control freak, OCD, weirdo, um...annoying, what have you), but it's 100% true. I prefer to think of it as... high standards.
This morning I was getting dressed and my baby girl was taking a nap so I thought "Hey, I was able to wash my hair this week. It's in the perfect condition for some wave action. Let me just find that ol' curling iron and move all this crap aside to find the pluuug... got it. La di da, dee ba daaa. This is fun!"
While this internal dialogue was happening I interrupted myself and thought, "I can't see the back of my head, so I'll just curl a bunch of hair and see what happens. Maybe it will work out this time and I won't have a huge hunk of uncurled hair hanging around like it just don't care." So I did.
Let me tell you. IT WAS PEREFCT. Almost. See, there was this ONE piece just dangling there, hidden between some luscious curls. It was all straight and shiny. Not a big piece, mind you, but noticeable nonetheless. I grabbed the curling iron to heat it into submission WHEN... All these thoughts about perfection stopped me in my tracks.
Now, I am looking good today. I am feelin' myself. I have a nice lightweight fall sweater on, some skinny jeans, suede lace up booties. I tell you, It's one of those days. Perfect hair would be the icing on the cake right? Wrong. Perfect makeup and perfect hair, but I digress.
I LEFT IT. I did. I just up and left that straight piece of hair floating amongst the sea of waves (I'm getting poetic now. Wistful.). I just shook my head, ran my fingers through it, and topped it off with a spritz of hair spray. It was oddly satisfying and empowering.
What I'm trying to get at is this: I AM CRAZY! Wait, no. I mean I aaaam, but my point is... that I drive myself crazy clinging on to the madness of perfection. Now, I am not about to hit WalMart in some curlers, PJs, and slippers. Nor will my children be seen in public with spaghetti face or peanut butter hair (these are real afflictions, people).
However, the stress of keeping a house put together, my family looking like a Gap ad, putting food on the table, maintaining a loving and exciting marriage, plus there's the cat to keep alive, and my blogging and painting and writing... AGH!!!! WHAT MORTAL being can do all that PERFECTLY?!
It's not worth it. I miss all the good stuff. Instead of following around the children re-cleaning up after them (they DO pick stuff up, just not to my liking. *cough*) I should be playing WITH them. Or at least letting them play uninhibited. While my entire personality will never change (and thank the Lord), my hope is that I can approach each day with the knowledge that I don't have to live it perfectly. I will breathe a sigh of relief and tackle it without the stress of trying to make every situation go my way.
As for today, I'm STILL feelin' myself. Even with my imperfections. When I wake my daughter from her nap and tickle her with my hair, she can grab it and run her chubby little fingers through it without any interference from me. How I would miss those giggles.
The Hot Mama