It was 6:30 p.m. I had just gotten home from a very long day at work. I was looking forward to making dinner for my family, baking and decorating “X” themed cookies with my kids for Wednesday’s preschool snack, and completing my son’s “Why God Made Me Special” poster for school. Despite the long list of things to get done, I was excited. All day, I had had the vision of a fun evening of Pinterest worthy projects and fun with my kids.
Then reality hit.
Dinner took much longer to prepare than anticipated. The kids’ version of “baking” meant trying to eat the raw dough, smear flour and pour sprinkles across the kitchen. Most of the “X” shaped cookies barely resembled a letter. The poster ended up covered in Halloween stickers. Toddler meltdowns occurred because the cookies had to be baked, and were not immediately ready to be consumed. I found myself trying not to get mad, getting mad, and then feeling very guilty for feeling mad.
As I tucked the kids in, I felt disappointed that my well-intentioned evening was a disaster. But I realized, the disaster was completely my doing. In all reality, pre-school snack the next day could have been the standard Goldfish crackers and apple juice. No one was expecting a homemade (much less themed) snack. The poster was supposed to be my son’s four-year-old project. It did not need glitter paper and stickers that matched his interests.
That night, I realized my constant desire to be a good mother had gone to the extreme. The desire to be a good, calm, and involved mother had morphed into a mandate for perfection. Not surprisingly, this was a mandate I could not meet.
At the end of each day, my mind was on repeat. I kept asking myself: ‘What did I do wrong today‘? ‘How could I have been a better mom‘? I found myself slipping into a pattern of evaluating each interaction and zeroing in on the possible moments I was less than perfect. In my quest for perfection, I was losing an opportunity to feel good. I was rarely stopping to evaluate the moments I got right. I was not focusing on the many times I was present and connected. The moments we laughed and played.
As I became more aware of this pattern and my stress level increased, I stumbled upon the concept of grace. Grace, in its simplest form means to be considerate and thoughtful.
I began to do my best to extend grace upon myself.
As mothers, we are hardwired to care for others in need. Yet, that same care giving system does not always kick in for us. By finding grace in mothering, we extend the same compassion and care we naturally show others upon ourselves.
Replacing grace with perfection means allowing your best to be good enough. Let’s face it, kids are little humans with many needs. Mothers are big humans meeting many needs.
This realization and awareness propelled me to find ways to extend grace upon myself. Some of this meant changing my mind set and expectations, and some of it meant doing things differently, shaking up my own patterns.
A few things that helped:
- Good enough is good enough. It’s really not about making the perfect snack, it’s about my son knowing I have snack covered and I will be there to deliver it to school with him in the morning.
- Stay in your own lane. I started following the lesson I often repeat to my kids by staying in my own lane and stopping the comparisons. Extending grace means granting myself the freedom to do what works for my family without comparison or self-inflicted judgment. My kids will be okay whether they go to public versus private schools, participate in one activity or three.
- The plan can change. Another tough lesson for a perfectionist like me, but flexibility goes a long way. There are nights for big projects and activities and there are nights when it’s time for a movie and popcorn. Grace means understanding what will work and being okay changing mid-stream.
- Follow your intuition. I am the expert on my kids, my family, and myself. Grace means believing in this and allowing myself to follow my intuition. I may feel my son “should” participate in several summer camps, but he really prefers shorter days of activities and time at home.
- Stay present. Enjoy the moment- it won’t be every moment-but enjoy the good ones. Sometimes this means we stay at the park an extra half an hour and the dinner I planned to cook is made the next day. It’s so worth it.
And if I find myself compelled to bake two dozen alphabet themed cookies at the end of the day again? I will remind myself Trader Joe’s makes excellent alphabet cookies.
Perfection is not possible but Grace and self-compassion are.
