all-or-nothing
i want things to be Perfect. clean and sterile and magazine-glossy and everybody smiling all the time. Perfect little children lined up in a row. Perfect little house with a Perfect picket fence. i try to make things Perfect, i do. i always have the best of intentions and i try very hard to make real life match up with my daydreams. never mind how utterly boring things would be if they actually did match up with my daydreams. never mind how unattainable those daydreams are and that nobody else’s life really looks like that. i just want things to be Perfect DAMMIT and i will kill myself trying to make them that way.
of course, things will never be Perfect. i tend to forget that as a person, i am messy and loud and different, that i will never fit into any sort of mold that remotely resembles Perfect. i tend to forget that it’s actually quite impossible for my family to fit into that mold with me. but i will try and try to force myself into that mold, even though i keep spilling out of it, and i will pull my protesting, screaming children in there with me, all the while trying to convince my husband that it’s a wonderful idea and he should hop in as well. it never works. ever.
and so, when we’re all sufficiently upset and crying, i decide that if things can’t be Absolutely Perfect, then i don’t want them at all. if i can’t have my way, i’m going to throw a temper tantrum and go pout for a while. this is what i generally do until i decide that the only reason it didn’t work the last time was because i didn’t try hard enough, of course, why didn’t i think of that before, i’ll just try harder this time, make a Better Plan, revamp things and re-arrange the living room furniture and things will be Perfect this time, you’ll see.
i don’t have any idea what the middle ground looks like. the balance.
of course, things will never be Perfect. i tend to forget that as a person, i am messy and loud and different, that i will never fit into any sort of mold that remotely resembles Perfect. i tend to forget that it’s actually quite impossible for my family to fit into that mold with me. but i will try and try to force myself into that mold, even though i keep spilling out of it, and i will pull my protesting, screaming children in there with me, all the while trying to convince my husband that it’s a wonderful idea and he should hop in as well. it never works. ever.
and so, when we’re all sufficiently upset and crying, i decide that if things can’t be Absolutely Perfect, then i don’t want them at all. if i can’t have my way, i’m going to throw a temper tantrum and go pout for a while. this is what i generally do until i decide that the only reason it didn’t work the last time was because i didn’t try hard enough, of course, why didn’t i think of that before, i’ll just try harder this time, make a Better Plan, revamp things and re-arrange the living room furniture and things will be Perfect this time, you’ll see.
i don’t have any idea what the middle ground looks like. the balance.