On Being Good Enough

Hey there, Jesse here! I am now blogging over at a new site called Weave In Wonder. It's the place where moms learn how to feel their happiest with meaningful self-care, respectful parenting & fun play ideas. Meet me over there! 

<3

I've been having the same dream over and over all week: I'm weaving around tables taking food orders. My heart is pounding and a mysterious gooey stain is stuck on my uniform. I'm giving it my best but I can't quite seem to satisfy everyone's needs. I'm jolted out of my waitressing dream from the sound of a baby crying, and I'm back to being a mother. 

The next morning at breakfast, Brother Butterfly is crying for more oatmeal and Sister Butterfly refuses to eat anything unless a gallon of honey is poured on top (don't mix it Mama!). I realize we have to leave for our preschool co-op and I have something sticky in my hair. I instantly get an uncanny sense of déjà vu - that same feeling from my dream - that my best effort isn't good enough. 

Baba Butterfly swoops in for the rescue, giving our son a few more bites of oatmeal while adding another drizzle of honey to our daughter's oatmeal. I run upstairs and change into a pair of unwashed leggings, and decide that the mysterious gunk in my hair gave it a nice texture. As I'm arriving 15 minutes late (and no one seem to mind), I realize that perhaps I need to accept my best efforts as a parent a bit more. Pushing myself to do more when I can't stretch myself further doesn't feel right. But "good enough" makes me feel instantly confident and happy. I'm not always going to be on time, and you can bet there will be something gooey in my hair. But my children are clothed and fed. This is good enough for now. This is where I'm at. 

I carry this attitude with me the rest of the day, and I try to extend it to my children as well.

When Sister Butterfly helps me sweep up the crumbs from her snack, she slowly takes the pan to the trash, concentrating on each step yet not noticing the trail of crumbs that are sprinkling down from the pan. I thank her and she beams with pride. Leaving some crumbs is her best effort. It's good enough. This is where she's at. 

Brother Butterfly holds on to the couch and stands. He takes a step left. A step right. I observe and acknowledge his new mobility he accomplished all on his own, and he flashes a big grin. I won't rush him to walk by holding his hands and I won't place him in a walker to learn faster. He will learn new skills on his own natural timetable. For now, this his best effort. It's good enough. It's where he's at. 

These days, we're certainly not perfect but we're confident and happy (and clothed and fed!). That's feels good enough for now. It's where we're at.