Homework From My Shrink

According to my counselor "K", I should continue to write about the things I get out of our weekly time together.

I'm a perfectionist. Not just in one or two areas in my life...I feel constant pressure to be perfect all the time in every aspect of my life. It can be exhausting. I never feel 100% in any one area because all day I am pulled in a hundred different directions, rationing my time, attention and energy the best I know how to. I work from home so when there are things that need to be done, I feel awful that my kids are being neglected. When I take the time to do something really fun with the kids, I don't leave myself enough time to finish my Relief Society lesson. When I take a little time for myself and go running, I don't get the gourmet meal I had planned in my head on the dinner table. It doesn't matter what area I chose to work on that day, in my mind, there are always other areas of my life that are being neglected and I am left feeling less than perfect. Anyone else feel this way?

I've been working really hard on cutting myself some slack and doing the best I can with what I have. I was surprised with some of the comments/e-mails I got after my last post. Many expressed relief that in my post I admitted I was struggling and not perfect because they've been watching from the outside and apparently my life seemed a little too perfect. I blame it on the blogging world. Most people don't post about their real lives, but rather the glorified version of it. I'm guilty. Most times I try to be real, but let's face it, real life isn't always pretty. In fact, many times it can be down right ugly and who wants to admit that?

I love the blogging world, but the dangerous part is that we all put our best face/life forward and this perfect standard is set which we all use to measure ourselves against. All of us fall short of this perfect standard in one way or another, making ourselves feel worse about who we are and what we have accomplished. Why do we do this to ourselves?

I gotta break this habit, at least for myself. I actually found it somewhat liberating last week to admit I am nowhere near perfect and a lot crazy at times. The best part was I still got lots of love and encouragement from many of you. Imagine that...nobody expects me to be perfect except myself.

So, as to not add to the "picture perfect blogging life" here's a list of some of my imperfections...I can't tell you all of them because (1) we'd be here for days (2) that would be just plain embarrassing.

- I only wash my hair every three days, sometimes I can get away with going four.
- I'm cheap. I wash red, Costco cups because I think it is wasteful to use them once and throw them away.
- I NEVER make my bed.
- My face breaks out really bad every few weeks and I pick, leaving scabs and scars behind.
- I may or may not have gone to the grocery store without a bra on, on more than one occasion. Trust me, you can't really tell the difference which leads me to...
- I wear a very padded bra, especially after nursing Abbie.
- I cried last week when I spilled bleach on my favorite workout pants because I'm too cheap to buy another pair for $20.
- I watch Days of Our Lives, pretty much everyday thanks to my TIVO.
- I never say "No" to dessert. I just can't do it, I have no self control.
- I lock myself in the bathroom for "mommy timeouts" often because if I hear "MOM" one more time I might just explode.
- I don't handle stress well. I have ulcers and practice relaxation techniques to help.
- I hate getting dressed, doing my hair and putting makeup on. Scott thinks I have gotten too comfy in my small town life. I don't get dressed unless I have to.
- I live out of my suitcase for weeks after coming home from a trip. I hate unpacking.
- I suck at baking breads. Yeast is one of my worst enemies.
- If I'm really tired I chose not to brush me teeth or wash my face at night. Gross, I know!
- No matter how much I work out, I can't get rid of the little dimples on my butt or the extra flab on my stomach.

There, I said. I'm not perfect and imperfect feels pretty good sometimes.