Learning To Let Go

Well, what do we have here? A real-live blog post?

Wow. It's like a mini miracle!

I'm sorry I haven't been posting very much lately. I was just drawing a blank and had nothing to share. . . boring, I know. I had an "ah-ha" moment just a bit ago and I thought I'd spill it.

. . .

Before I had Hannah, I was one of those people. You know. The kind of person who thinks they know what's best for their non-existent children. The kind of person that often thought to themselves, "When I'm a mom, I'll never do that." or "I'll never let my kid eat that."

I'll never blow off a binkie and give it back to my kid when it lands on the floor for a split second.

I'll never lose my patience or raise my voice.

I'll never forget to bathe my kid for the third fourth day in a row.

I'll never have to rely on 'hand-me-down' clothes.

I'll never feed my kid canned spaghetti.

. . .

The list goes on, my friends. It could wrap around the world about forty-five times, I think.

I just got done feeding Hannah some canned mini ravioli (gasp!) and went to wipe her hands and face off. I may have mentioned this before, but Hannah HATES getting her hands/face cleaned. I don't know what her deal is. . . but the girl freaks out. She's been getting better as she gets older, but she was not appreciating the elbow grease I had to use in order to scrub off the orange tint left on her cheeks {honestly, Chef Boyardee, do you have to put permanent food coloring in your stuff?}.

Instead of getting frustrated, though, I decided to turn it into a game. I made funny sounds as I quickly swiped her forehead; then her ear; then I used some more funny sounds to wipe the areas that needed some extra TLC. She thought I was supermom. . . and I got the job done, to boot!

I think sometimes we need to just chill out and take a deep breath. And by 'we', I really mean ME. I get wound up so tight that if something goes wrong, I unravel and it takes me a long time to find my feet again. If I spend my morning cleaning the house and it gets messy 30 minutes later, I want to pout and mope around for the rest of the day; saying I should just stop trying. If I make a mistake cooking dinner and it ends up tasting nasty, I have a tendency to tell myself that I'll never make a good meal again.

I need to learn to let go.

If I need to feed Hannah canned-squishy-stuff-that-stains-her-face-for-a-day every now and again to stay sane, then so be it. If I sometimes need to wipe down my bathroom counter top with a Kleenex instead of getting out my sponge and cleaner, then so be it. If I need to make tuna fish sandwiches for dinner, then so be it. If I need to clip Hannah's mane back in a simple clip instead of stressing over making it a masterpiece, then so be it.

Striving for complete perfection is Satan's favorite technique to make us miserable. He tells us that we aren't good enough and that we'll never be. He nurtures expectations in each of us that we will never be able to fulfill while maintaining control of our sanity.

So, by all means, cut yourself some slack. There are things in life that matter in the long run, and there are things that don't. Do the very best you can each day, but don't beat yourself up mercilessly if you have to cut corners on some things.

Deal?

Learn to let go of unrealistic expectations. You'll be all the happier for it. :)