Because we can't do it all.

My husband says he is terrified of what it must feel like to live in my head.  He says this because sometimes when things finally get quiet around our house and I start spilling out all of the things I'm thinking about, he just sits with a dumbfounded look on his face like I have spoken in a foreign language.  I'll never forget the day before taking John to daycare for the first time and we stood in our kitchen and I started sobbing.  Just sobbing and saying all of the things that had crossed my mind "what if he cries out for me and when I don't come he thinks that I have abandoned him and he loses trust in me?!"  "What if they are not kind to him and he's too little to tell me?!"  The list just went on and on and on and on and I had pretty much covered most of my worries when he stopped me and said it was enough that he didn't even want to hear anymore because now he was freaking out.  I'll never forget that moment because he looked truly terrified of the power of my brain to be thinking so many thoughts (and horrible ones at that) at one moment.  And the mars verse venus moments continued...all of the time when we have a quiet moment at home I immediately start thinking about grocery lists, upcoming holidays, plans, big milestone moments, how I'm going to get all of my ceu's for my next social work licensure renewal etc. and he just laughs and says "whoa there woman.  Let's do this one at a time."

And I try.  I really do sometimes try, but I find that the pressure is there.  The pressure to make things utterly painless on everyone else.  To keep this train moving without any sudden stops and changes.  The pressure to not only make sure it all gets done but to make sure it all gets done flawlessly and perfectly.

And that's why I have shingles at the age of 29.

Yup.  The shingles have inspired me to remember the importance of releasing the need for perfection...again.  I have moments all the time when I tell myself that life cannot always be perfect, but I've never ever given over fully to the idea.

Recently we have been on the go doing a lot of really fun stuff, but in the midst of the really fun stuff is the not so fun stuff that has to happen to get to the fun stuff.  The laundry, the packing, the ironing out the details stuff.  So my life has been full of crazy busy moments trying to get things ready and unready and then ready again while going to doctor's appointments and preparing for back to school and making sure my children don't get more than the recommended screen time and eat at least two servings of vegetables a day and get the right amount of rest to not fall apart and that I don't drink too much caffeine even though I really, really want to and, and, and...and it's there.  The pressure building.  Not only is it logistics, but it's the pressure to not gain too much weight while pregnant so I don't look swollen faced and horrible in pictures when I give birth.  Or the pressure to try and remember the hardships that everyone else are facing and reach out to people when you have a free moment.  Or the pressure to clean, reclean, and then reclean again the house because two little boys have destroyed it playing.  Or the pressure to get it all done without ever neglecting your children.  The pressure to make sure the budget is maintained and money is saved every way it can be.  The pressure to be a wife.  A mother.  A daughter.  A sister.  A friend.

Enter shingles.

The pressure is too much.  Perfectionism is not healthy.  I have no idea how I allow myself to get to the point of being crazy eyed and wild haired with perfectionism, but the crazy train must stop.  It's time to take a step back and refocus.  I am only one person.  One really awesome person, but still...just one person.  (that was a joke mostly)

I cannot do it all.

So for the next few weeks before we add another sweet Murray boy to the family, I will be focusing on the things that have to be done, but I will not be killing myself to execute them flawlessly.  I will be practicing the art of doing things one at a time.  I will be practicing the art of letting people down sometimes.  And mostly, I will be praying for the grace to be kind to myself.  To be forgiving of myself.  To be patient with myself.

Because having the shingles is uncomfortable, but mostly because the most beautiful people aren't the ones with perfect houses, children, and lives, but the ones who are filled with God's good grace and willing to share it often.

So long perfectionism.  It is time for us to part ways again.