I'm ok with that...

I've just about decided that I'm just not creative. My mind doesn't work that way, or atleast I haven't trained it to work that way. I absolutely stink at pulling amazing/cute/inspiring crafts out of thin air, but by golly, if you give me an idea I can run with it and make it my own.

And I'm ok with that.

You might not know this since I rarely have people over, but I'm a lousy housekeeper. So much so that while the speech therapist was over yesterday, Ed was too distracted to work with her because he was busy picking bits of stale cookie off the carpet and eating them. I have oatmeal from a month ago cemented to the floor under the table, and fossils forming between Ed's booster and the old metal folding chair we strapped it to. But my kids have good immune systems and we know how to pile the clutter in a hamper and whip out the vaccuum when we need to.

So while I'm not exactly ok with that, I can live with it.

I'm not naturally compassionate. My kids rarely get hugs. I tell them I love them so rarely that when I do, they're not sure what to do with me. Last week I got a "thanks" in return. I forget to tuck them in at night unless Dot comes downstairs and begs me to hold her hands so she can go to sleep.

I would like to be better but it's a struggle, like swimming upstream. But I can work on it.

I am a slightly less than mediocre cook. Last month I burned two dinners and one pan in the same week. Last night I make sausage links to go with our pancakes and they came out of the pan looking like poo. No lie. If I follow a recipe exactly I can bake, but I rarely have the desire. However, I make a decent pie crust. From scratch. And if you tell me what you want for dinner I can make it. I just don't like it.

And I'm totally fine with that.

I have little fashion sense. I might have better fashion sense than I think I do if I had the resources to explore a little... nope, pretty sure I have little fashion sense. I have the junior high/prom/prego pictures to prove it. But every now and then Fred makes a positive comment about something I'm wearing and suddenly it doesn't matter if my jeans never have cute pockets.

And most days I'm ok with that.

I have bad skin and large pores and a flat chest. And I still get snubbed just because I am thin. But I really like the extra weight I've put on since I first failed to lose all the baby weight. And even if I will always have bunions and a flabby stomach and zits and a moustache,

I'm ok with most of that and can wax the rest.

I have very little musical talent. As in I could fit it all in my little toe. I play no instrument and have a hard time finding the right note when singing, but I can chicken peck a melody out on the piano and sing in a choir if I stand next to a strong singer. I can teach my children what I do know and guide them so that they appreciate good music and help them find opportunities to learn for themselves.

And I'm ok with that.

I am more judgemental that I wish I was. I notice things in other people and make notes not to do those things in my own life. I notice behaviors in other people's children and am secretly smug because my children are better behaved. Occasionally I go so far as to actually make judgements and lead myself to believe that I am better than someone else. I often forget that God didn't want us all to be identical, and if the whole world was like me it would be a mighty boring place to live. We'd all be mediocre at everything and stellar at nothing and socially awkward. But I can try every day not to compare myself to anyone else, look past others' faults, and resolve to take the things I love about people I meet and try to do better at those things myself.

And I'm continually working on that.

I feel like a faker a lot of the time. I may have a cute nick knack on my mantle that I glued together from a bowl and a candle stick, but you have to know that I stole the idea from a blog I read. My kids may be really well behaved, but they came to me like that, I had little to nothing to do with it and they are like that in spite of my parenting skills. Dot may share amazing testimonies for a 4yo, but she comes up with that stuff herself. I just try to get out of her way. I can do a really good job altering your clothes and they will fit terrific when I am finished (most times) yet I still struggle with not being sure that I really know what I'm doing. But even if I can't take much credit for what I create, I can learn to be proud of myself for trying instead of making excuses.

And I need to work on being ok with that.

I consistently let my children down. I promise them trips to the park and games to be played and attention to be lavished, and more often than not I fall short.

Let me work on that one...

I wish I was more passionate. I wish I loved sewing more and could make it a passion instead of a means to an end. I wish I could get past my lethargy and get out and run. At all. Because I feel great when I do. I wish I was better at doing things with my kids instead of focusing so much on getting things done. And on, and on, and on. But I can be grateful that I am aware of my shortcomings and make an effort to do better today than I did yesterday.

And I can work on that.