Wednesday, January 7, 2009
I really, really want to be perfect
I mean, I try really hard and sometimes I think I've almost got it, but every now and then a ray of truth pierces the image I've built around myself. And let me tell you. It's quite painful.
I wish that I wanted something different. Like to be strong. Or to be friendly. Or to be anything remotely attainable. But this longing for perfection sure is the pits.
Sometimes I quietly tell myself that there is a society of perfect parents and with just a few more credentials I just might be able to join the group. Perfect parents are the ones that don't let their kids watch TV, drink juice or eat sugary things. They never lose their cool and have quick answers for tricky situations. I don't think I've ever met one and when I am thinking clearly I know that, like fairies, their existence is questionable, but when I'm not thinking clearly they are a very real presence that I use as a way to measure my parenting performance.
Yesterday I lost my cool, didn't know what to do in a tricky situation and I let Andrew, actually made sure Andrew watched too much TV. We also each drank juice and I sure ate my fill of sugary things (cinnamon buns! cookies!) though I can't remember if Andrew actually had any. Yesterday seemed to be the Grand Finale of the weeks of blah I've been having. And, lucky me, friends were here to see the great unraveling (Hi Melissa!!).
So, the bad news and the good news is that I'm not a perfect parent. The trick is to stop wanting to be so perfect. A friend recently told me that she knew she couldn't be a really good mom, but she thought she would be excellent at being mediocre. I think I should try for that.
Robyn Rice: consistently meeting new levels of mediocrity...one swig of apple juice at a time.