Posted by Duff

I just spent an hour writing a post about what a piss-poor job I’ve done with most things I’ve attempted lately. But I had two (ahem, make that ‘too’) many windows open, saved the wrong draft, and the better one is gone.

As further evidence, you see.

Insult + Injury = I need some more of my sister in law’s magic cake in a bowl at 11:09 pm.

It was a whiny post, anyway. So I’m starting over.

After all, my husband and I are still employed (despite stress on that count for both of us this week) when many aren’t so lucky. The Dervish counted to eleven while we drove across our small town on a warmer-than-it’s-been winter afternoon. There is such a thing as cake in a bowl, and this particular one has miniature chocolate chips and pudding and strawberries in it.

So, while what I’ve accomplished is not ideal by perfectionist standards, it’s not bad and could be far, far worse.  Never forgetting that puts me to sleep rather quickly most nights.

I officially am no longer my harshest critic. Not even close. It amazes me how being a parent, what I consider to be the most challenging job I’ve ever had, has made me fiercely protective of my judgement and confidence. As if along with a child, I have been raising a new sense of myself. And any fledgling deserves patience and encouragement.

If nothing else, I guess I can say I’ve successfully grown out of my perfectionistic tendencies. And while this may come as a disappointment to those who’ve gotten used to my dotted i’s an crossed t’s, it comes as somewhat of a relief to me.

And probably would also to The Dervish, had she ever known the difference.