White Knuckling

Here it is.  The harder I work, the better person I am.  The more I accomplish, the more approval I'll receive from... whoever cares.  The more I stay on top of the mountains in my life (and there are many), the more worthy of this role of wife-mother-house-keeper-inn-keeper-teacher-church-person-friend-and-all-purpose-getter-doner-etc  I am.  And most of it is unsuccessful attempts to reach for perfection.  So, I grab on harder, stay up longer, get up earlier, and white knuckle my way to what I hope will be success, or utter burn-out.  It's tiring to even write this.

Fake.

Our kitchen in an adoption home-study photo. 

And once I let the children out of the closet, no one has seen it look like that since.

 Real.

 My awesome family, cleverly standing in front of most of the dirty dishes

(which also extended to the other counter on the right, not seen in photo).

Actually, I have to say that God has (successfully) been working on me in this area.  In His goodness He allowed me to reach that nasty burn-out stage several years ago.  It was awful.  Horrible.  Hateful.  Never want to go there again.  And now, strangely, whenever I seem to approach break-neck speed, I get these little physical reminders that a crash is coming, and I back off.  Who'd o' thought?  I actually learned how to notice that I can't handle life in the fast lane.  My nerves have thanked me a number of times.  So has my family.

 

 A happy little baby playing in our laundry room... I mean, bedroom.

But, YIKES!  What does that look like?  It usually looks like a messy house (gasp!).  I've read stacks of books that will organize, systematize and simplify my life in 52 weeks and 1200 easy steps (even with 7 kids? ).  But I'm not wired like those women, and the effort it takes for my disorganized brain to minute-by-minute implement those fail-proof strategies (and they are great strategies), makes me an irritable mother and a resentful wife.  Not such a great trade off.  After 4 decades of life with me, I guess it's time to just accept my brain for what it is.

  

December

February. That's all I have to say.

Don't get me wrong, I am still constantly trying to improve efficiency in our home.  I still want to train my children, to please my husband, to honor my commitments and come across "polished" sometimes.  But only when it works.  And by that, I mean everyone in my home has to survive the process and then come out still loving each other!  That's really how I measure success.  If my husband doesn't even rank on my list of priorities, then I need to completely rearrange my priorities.  If I can't get the house clean without hollering at my kids, then I need to stop and rethink my modus operandi.  If I am so frazzled by trying to plan the perfect curriculum for my childrens' education that I'm not teaching them well, then "second best" is best.  If I'm not living out my everyday life with some grace, and a Fruit or two of the Spirit, who am I living for anyway? 

The face... old family tradition.

Two more birthdays with store-bought
 (rather than homemade) cake. 

It's a silly thing, but it can chisel away at my

Happy Suzy Homemaker Wanna-Be status.

So while I do still battle with those perfectionistic tendencies, they don't control me like they used to. I'm not a slave to impossible standards anymore. I'm not even a slave to all possible standards anymore. Usually.