To Be or Not To Be

I had a conversation with some other parents the other day and the topic revolved around "shy" children and separation from their parents. Almost all the parents and their respective child(ren) had issues with "shyness", particularly in groups. For some children, shyness is the correct term; for others, perhaps the notion of "warming up" or "thinking" or "observing" is more accurate.

I wouldn't qualify my children as shy. My oldest certainly takes her time warming up to new activities and may keep her distance at the beginning, but once she's had a chance to check things out, she jumps right in and starts playing. My youngest acts similarly at this point.

After talking to the other parents, however, I came to realize that "shy" isn't a problem just for the child; in fact, I'd venture to say it's more a problem for the child's parents. We want our children to have fun, be outgoing, make friends, be funny; essentially, we want them to be wonderful specimens of humanity that everyone else wants to love and be around. In short, we don't want them to have any of our crap. And by crap, I mean our issues, hang ups, hold ups, etc.

Personally, I'm not comfortable in large group settings or settings where I don't really know anyone. I don't particularly enjoy having to put forth the energy it takes for me to meet new people, remember names, tell witty anecdotes; I'd rather be home reading a good book. This being said, I don't want my kids to have this issue, and I don't want my issue rubbing off on them. So, now, when I'm in a group and the girls are there, I really have to try hard to promote this more outgoing type of personality that isn't really me. It's a stretch for me, but at the same time, I think it's good for me to try something new. I am and always will be an introvert at heart, but sometimes you need to put yourself out there and try something different.

What about you, readers? Do you find yourself doing things differently now that you have kids? Are there aspects of your personality you want your children to have? Aspects you don't want them to have? Do you act differently in certain situations?

Patience is a Flower

In college, a friend of mine had a little saying taped to her wall:

Patience is a flower that does not grow in my garden.

If you knew my friend, you knew this saying to be true.

Personally, I've always thought of myself as a relatively patient person. I tend toward the type A personality, but I'm pretty calm in my nature. Not the go out, party all night, dance on the tables type of girl (although there have been times I've secretly wanted to be that girl). But I digress...

I bring up the topic of patience, because since having kids, my patience is constantly tried in new and interesting ways. And there are times when my lack of patience really gets the better of me. I find it happens most recently with my 2-year old. Abby's always been a pretty easy kid. She eats well, sleeps at night, takes her nap, has a good attitude, is smart, does what I say for the most part. Lately, however, she pushes the limits. In my head, I understand she's 2 and this is what kids do - they push their limits with the ones who love them the most because we're the safest ones with whom to act this way. But because she's always been such an easy kid, I find her being difficult extremely trying in the patience arena. I can only answer "Why" and "Why not" so many times a day. I can only repeat her phrases back to her so often. I can only give her exactly what she wants 85% of the time.

The parents in Abby's class seem to be having similar difficulties with their kids, which, quite honestly, makes me feel a lot better. I take comfort in the fact other peoples' kids give them a hard time too. It makes me feel a little less alone in the battle. During Abby's classes, we do a separation time, so the kids get to play by themselves and the parents get to have some discussion time. Yesterday's discussion centered around how the kids are trying us right now; the kids in this class are 2 and 3. And you know what? Every one of those parents admitted their kids drive them crazy at times. And they all had problems with losing their patience.

So, what gives? Obviously we all want to be the best parents we can be. But when the kids aren't being the best they can be, how do we handle it? Do we use time outs? Discipline? Remove ourselves from the situation? Yell? Have an extra glass of wine that night?

Come on readers, what do you do, when the patience flower is wilting in your garden?

Shopping Tip

My children are severely lacking in the chub arena. They're both rather long, but neither one is particularly chubby. This can make pants a problem as they tend to fall down...all the time. It's mostly a problem when it comes to jeans. Even though most jeans have elastic bands, they still tend to be too large. And jeans are basically a staple for kids, right? Particularly for the kids who play hard and live in the colder climates.

Cherokee, a Target brand, has come up with a solution to the pants falling down problem. Essentially, they make tiny little maternity pants. You know, the pants with the buttons on the inside of the waistband, so you can pull the elastic tighter and then let it out as necessary? Well, Cherokee has this in some of their jeans now. And it works wonderfully well! Although I'm quite certain my girls will outgrow the length of their jeans before they need the waistbands let out, it's great to have a pair of pants that will actually stay where they're supposed to be! I even lucked out and found 2 pair of size 2s for around $9 a piece. Talk about a bargain!

My friend has a little boy with similar waistband issues. She's mentioned the Gymboree brand also carries similar pants styles with the adjustable waists.

Solo Weekend

As you know, my husband works and I stay home with the kids. With that particular set up has come compromise, the occasional argument, feeling of bitterness, moments of feeling put out; the list goes on and on and applies to both my husband and myself. For the most part, we work through things, but sometimes the feelings, no matter how ridiculous at the moment, rule the roost.

My husband is a hunter. For him, and his family, pheasant hunting is basically the end all be all. He literally lives for this time of year. I am not a hunter, but it is in his blood and he loves to do it. This year, I decided to really go the extra mile and encourage him to hunt as much as he can during the weekends this fall. Pheasant season basically goes from the 2nd weekend in October through the 1st of the year. Dana works very hard for us at a job that's very physically demanding; he deserves to have some weekends to enjoy himself.

Although he deserves his weekends, I continue to find it difficult to "let" him go out and have fun. It's not that the girls and I don't have fun while he's gone, but when he's gone, I'm literally on duty 24/7 until he gets home. And, if we're being perfectly honest, I'm never really not on duty. Sometimes, I'm simply sharing the duty for a few hours.

So, how do I resolve these feelings? I want my husband to go out and have fun. I want to go out and have fun. I don't want to be bitter about my husband having fun without me. Is it possible to accomplish all the aforementioned? Or does something have to suffer?

What do you think, readers? Suggestions? Ideas?

A Moment of Enlightenment

Every night before I get into bed, I check on my girls. They're generally fast asleep when I go in there and they usually don't waken when I enter their room. Every once and a while, though, I step in the wrong spot at the wrong time and one of the girls wakes up a bit.

The other night, my oldest woke up and was very upset about something she wanted to sleep with but wasn't in her bed. It took me a bit to understand what she was saying (she was mostly asleep and she's only 2) but I finally understood she wanted this little glowworm toy she's been obsessed with lately. I couldn't find the toy in her crib, so I gave her a puppy instead and she went back to sleep.

After getting the girls tucked in, I went into my room and got ready for bed. I had no intention of looking for the glowworm, but I happened to find it in my drawer, so I took it back into the girls' room. My oldest daughter barely opened her eyes, stuck her hand in the air, took the proffered toy, mummured "thank you" and promptly went back to sleep.

As seemingly insignificant at this moment may seem, to me, it really solidified my role in my daughters' lives. My daughter inherently seemed to know I would supply her needs/desires. I didn't even know I would find the toy, but apparently she had no doubts. It also told me something about the connection we have. Upon entering the room, I didn't have to say a word; my daughter simply knew why I was there and what I was doing.

There are days I feel like I'm still playing dress up at being a mom. I don't feel like I look and/or act like the other groups of moms you see everywhere or the groups of moms I saw all the time when I was a kid. But moments like the other night, simply supplying a toy, make me realize that to my daughters, I am the mom, whether I always feel like it or not.

I'd Tap That

Forgive my sassy title, but the following story should help clarify:

A couple weekends ago, I went shopping. Big deal, right? People go shopping all the time. Well, the shopping trip was important for 2 reasons:

1. I hate to shop.
2. I needed to buy pants.

Now, my fellow females will best understand what I mean when I say I needed to shop for pants. And my fellow females who've given birth, ever, will understand the process even better. Pants shopping can be a painful, time consuming project. No pair ever fits the same and you have to try on everything. For the non-shopping type like myself, it's akin to a trip to the dentist. Since having the girls, I've not really gotten back into my pre-pregnancy clothes the way I would like to and have chosen to wear ill-fitting pants that are technically too big rather than endure the tribulations of pants shopping.

I had a gift card to Macy's and the department store happened to be having a sale that weekend, so I took a deep breath and steeled myself for a trying evening. I walked into the store and grabbed the first pair of jeans I saw. Ralph Lauren. Around $70. Now, I normally would not pay that much for a pair of jeans, but I was determined to have some pants that fit well, so I was somewhat willing to bite the bullet.

Joy of joys the freakin' jeans fit! Not only did they fit, but I was officially back into the single digit sizes. And let me just tell you, my ass looked great in these pants. I'm not an overly conceited person, but I was impressed by what I saw in the mirror, and honestly, how often does that happen?

So, I held on tight to those pants and buoyed by the fact the shopping wasn't painful yet, continued to shop. I came across Levi's that were on sale for cheaper than the RLs, so I gave them a shot. They fit! I came across another brand, Bandolinoblu, and they fit! Not only did they fit, they fit better than the RLs. I'm talking not too tight in the thighs, able to breathe sitting down, sticking the ole muffin top where it's supposed to go, good colors fit! And I'd only been in the store for about 35 minutes! I bought 5 pair and left as fast as I could.

Now, I'm not overly concerned about the size of my pants or the fact I have stretch marks on my stomach or that my stomach isn't so flat. But to walk into that store, dreading trying on pants and having to spend too much money, it was such a pleasant surprise to fit into pants that actually made me feel good. I walked out of that store with a spring in my step, a gleam in my eye and for the first time in a long time, I felt really good about myself. I worked hard with my running this summer and now I have my pants to show for it. My body is nowhere near perfection, or a size 00 (or whatever it is all those supermodels wear), but I am at a point where I'm much more pleased with it. And that is a fine place to be.

Goal (Halfway) Achieved

As I've mentioned before, when I decided to stay home with the girls, I also decided I needed a goal. A really hard goal, one that would make me work. After some consideration, I decided the Twin Cities Marathon would be my goal. So, a couple weekends ago, on a chilly and overcast Sunday morning, I made the grand attempt. My husband's friend was nice enough to run with me. I was a little nervous about running with someone, since I'd never really done it before, but he was a gem. Chatted with me, didn't make me run too fast, took off when he needed to and kept an eye out for me. A lovely running partner.

About a half hour into the run, it started to rain. And the rain just kept coming. At the start of the race, I mentioned to my running pal I wouldn't mind if it rained, as long as it didn't pour. Well, it poured...and poured...let up a little...and just kept raining. As I hit hour 2 or so, the rain finally let up. By this time, I was soaked to the bone and cold. I didn't mind my clothes being wet, but my shoes were soaked and I knew they wouldn't dry until I removed them. It was not a pretty picture.

At mile 11, my husband, his cousin and the girls were standing on the roadside waiting to cheer me on to completion. When I saw them, I thought, "Excellent. Here's my ride!" I kept going though, after a little break for kisses and hugs.

I made it to mile 13 and was still at least 3 hours from the finish line. At this point, my foot was hurting and I had gone longer than I'd ever run before. I debated, walking back and forth a few times, and finally decided to call it a day. A girl running by me said she was running the unofficial Half Marathon today, and that sounded like an excellent idea to me. So, I hopped on the bus and headed toward the finish line.

Now, my goal was to finish the marathon and I did not accomplish that goal. Having made it 13 miles, however, was tremendously satisfying to me. I think it's ok to not always accomplish our goals as long as we actually strive for them. Sometimes we pick goals that are too hard, sometimes outside sources keep us from our goals, sometimes we lose interest in our goals and move on to something else. As long as we keep striving for something, however imperfect the outcome, we continue to move foward in our lives.

And you, dear reader, what do you strive to accomplish? Any new goals these days? Any old goals completed?

Moms Night Out

Friday night my friend L and I went out to dinner; sans kiddies, sans hubbies. Since L went back to work, we've made it a point to get together every few weeks or so and have a night out big-girl style.

During the course of the evening, our conversation roamed over several, standaed topics; the children, naturally; our husbands; housework; L's job; me being home with the kids; the pitfalls of working vs. staying home. One topic we spent a bit of time I find particularly intriguing - dads staying home with the kids while the moms go to work.

The topic of dads staying home with the kids stemmed from a recent conversation between my husband and I. I quit work because the amount of money I made at my company didn't offset the costs of daycare. My husband owns his own flooring company, but with the economy the way it is at the moment, people aren't exactly champing at the bit to get new floors in their homes. So, needless to say, money is a constant topic of concern in our house. I have a higher degree than my husband, so if I were able to land a higher paying job, we could probably afford to have him stay home while I went to work. My husband says he's perfectly fine staying home with the kids; in fact, he'd love to do it.

Part of me honestly thinks my husband would be better at staying home with the girls than I am. At this point in time, I'm finally starting to feel like I'm getting the hang of being home full-time. It's taken me about 6 months to adjust, which, I guess, is standard when one switches jobs. But did I really switch jobs? I was a mom when I was working and I'm still a mom. I'm just a mom who doesn't leave the house quite as often as I used to...and a mom with a significantly smaller paycheck. Hugs and kisses, while adorable and a daily necessity, don't pay the mortgage.

In terms of my husband staying home, in some ways I think it might be easier for him than it is for me. The whining gets to me. I find it irritating, grating, annoying. The constant needing can be exhausting, depending on the day. I can't say I'd mind going a day or two without having to wipe 2 extra butts. Nor would I mind not having to cajole the kiddos into eating...or playing nicely...or being polite.

I think this is where some of the fundamental differences between men and women come into play. The whining gets to me because I hear every single second of it; my husband doesn't seem to hear it on the same level I do and it simply doesn't bother him as much as it does me. The girls' constant neediness doesn't faze him and although dirty diapers don't thrill him, he doesn't mind taking care of them...too much. And if the kids won't eat, he'll just keep suggesting things until they're hungry for that suggested item.

So, readers, what do you think? Benefits to the dads staying home? Downfalls? Better if both parents work? Anyone have the magic secret to winning the Powerball, so we won't have to worry about working at all?

Kudos to the Mother Runner

The other night, my husband lucked into White Sox/Twins tickets (the game of the year, according to him) and even I couldn't think of a good enough reason for him not to go, so I made plans to go over to my friend's house for the evening. L was planning on going for a run, and taking one of her kids with her, so I brought the jogging stroller along and we attempted to go for a run. L, typical mother that she is, has a route that includes a popsicle stop at the local drug store, so this seemed like an excellent idea to my little ones.

Well, the run went something like this...we left from L's house, jogging strollers in tow. L's neighborhood is a little hillier than the area I usually run, but no big deal, right? A few hills never hurt anyone. I kept up with L for about the first block and shortly thereafter I realized I was insane to think I could run with this woman. As we reached the first turn, I was huffing and puffing like a banshee and she looked like she was floating on water. I told her she was under no obligation to run next to me...I didn't want to hold her back from her run. (L works full-time and doesn't get to run as often as she'd like.) She stuck close for a bit, until I knew where the store was, and then went on her merry way. In the meantime, I followed her up a monster hill at a snail's pace and tried not to curse her name. When the girls and I finally reached the store, L and her daughter, replete in her princess dress, were waiting patiently for us, and were kind enough not to laugh at the spectacle of the red-faced, sweaty, crabby woman making her way toward them.

A few disclaimers, not meant to demean L and her running prowess, but simply to make myself feel better:

1. I was pushing a double stroller; L had a single.
2. L has run several marathons, including Boston and the Twin Cities; I am merely a running impostor...and not a particularly good one at that.
4. L honestly enjoys running; I prefer reading...or cooking...or sleeping...or...
3. Hills are HARD!

In attempt to make myself feel a little better about my running, I went for a solo run yesterday afternoon. I did 6 miles in under an hour which is pretty good for me. I didn't have to stop for any breaks and there were a few hills involved.

In spite of the ugliness of the joint "run", at least on my part, it was a good experience. While there is a good chance I will never subject myself to running with L again, it did make me realize something...trying something new, even if you aren't very good at it and even if a whole lot of people are a whole lot better at it than you are, is totally worth the experience.

So, for you runners out there who look like my friend L, running seemingly effortlessly and enjoying every minute of it...good for you! You've obviously found a passion and have put the time and effort into the project to make it a good fit for you. Keep up the good work and keep doing what you're doing. The rest of us look up to you.

For you runners who look like me, huffing and puffing and sweating and possibly cursing...good for you too! You're trying something. You might not stick with it, but you're giving it a go. You might not be good at it, but you're embracing the possibility.

And embracing the possibility, after all, is what Living Imperfectly is all about.

And you, dear reader, are you embracing any possibilities? Or perhaps you have some expertise to share?

Goals

When I quit work to stay home with the girls, I decided I needed a goal. Something to make sure I was still in touch with me. Something that was mine and pretty much mine alone. And, apparently, I decided to make the goal really hard, because who doesn't need a really hard goal, right? So, I decided to run a marathon. The Twin Cities Marathon.

Now, when I started training (and I use that term very lightly), I was still carrying baby weight... from both babies. Having gotten pregnant four months after giving birth to #1, I was still about 20 pounds heavier than normal when I got pregnant with #2. And guess what? I'm still carrying baby weight. Lovely, right? Don't get me wrong...I've definitely toned up. In fact, my ankles and wrists have never looked better. I finally lost that lovely "shelf" between my stomach and pubic bone. When I suck in my stomach, it visibly moves, whereas before I could suck in my stomach and although I could feel it suck in, when I looked in the mirror, it appeared nothing actually moved. The weight, however, is still there. I know, I know, muscle weighs more than fat. I would still prefer for the scale to register a smaller number when I step on it, but I digress...

My goal in running a marathon, however, was not to lose weight. I thought it would be an added bonus, definitely, but I wanted to run a marathon simply to be able to say that I've done it. I mean, that's a pretty major accomplishment, right? Running (jogging/walking/limping/crawling) 26.2 miles in 6 hours or less? It's a feat of endurance, strength, stubbornness and possibly stupidity. For some reason, I'm determined to do it. I am not a runner. I don't get a runner's high. I don't even enjoy running all that much. My only goal for the marathon is to not have to be picked up by the sweeper bus at the end of the race. I want to make it all the way to the finish line of my own accord and I'm 85% sure I can do it. It won't be pretty, I won't be running the whole time, there could be some throwing up involved and I may not be able to get out of bed the next day, but there's a very good chance I will be meeting my goal on October 4.

And you, readers, have you set yourself any goals? Obscenely difficult goals or perhaps daily goals? Immediate or future? Just for yourself or maybe some family oriented goals? Please, share your goals. Maybe it will give the rest of us something to shoot for...

How Many Hats?

I take my girls to classes at the community education center three days a week. During each class, there's a nice little added bonus of parent discussion time. I was not aware of this feature when I signed up for the classes, but I find myself looking forward to them now. It gives the parents a chance to discuss current issues, do a little ranting and/or raving, and ask questions of the other parents. Each parent, as each child, is in a completely different situation; we've got a stay-at-home dad, a couple stay-at-home moms, some moms that work, etc.

Each week, there's a different topic. This past week, the question on the table was "How many hats do you wear?" Some of the parents had short lists, some had longer lists, but I think the vast majority had one thing in common - we didn't actually realize how many hats we truly have.

Here's a sample list of my hats, in no particular order: wife, mother, sister (in-law), daughter (in-law), granddaughter, niece, friend, personal shopper, chauffeur, cook, menu planner, scheduler, amateur runner, creative person wannabe, reader, semi-writer, laundress, jungle gym, yadda, yadda, yadda...

Now, I think the question is a great one, and really gives one pause to think. And so, dear reader, I ask you, how many hats do you wear? And, do you wear them all willingly? Are there hats you'd like to wear in the near or distant future?

To Schedule or not to Schedule

I am a person who likes a schedule. This is ironic, being as my husband is possibly the most spontaneous person on the planet and has zero sense of time, and my children are not particularly inclined to any one's schedule but their own. I, however, thrive on a schedule and not having a specific one most of the time tends to distress me a bit.

When the girls were born, I was very deliberate about allowing them to set their own schedules. This went against every fiber of my being, personally, but I felt it was what was best for them. They ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, they were awake and playing when they wanted to be. This worked out well for us. Both girls established their own, pretty dependable schedules and started sleeping through the night at relatively early ages (6 weeks for the oldest, 7 weeks for the youngest). As the girls have gotten older, I have had to manipulate their schedules at times, but I still pretty much allow them to set the pace. It seems to keep us all a little less stressed and a little more relaxed.

Since it is fall, and we basically muddled through the summer with no sense of a specific schedule, I decided it would be a good idea to enroll the girls in some community education classes and some swimming lessons. I thought this would be good for the girls - they could meet some new kids, play with some new toys, learn some new things. I also thought it would be good for me - I would have some sense of stability on a day-to-day basis. So, we have community education classes for the girls in the mornings on MTW and swimming lessons on TTH evenings. Sounds great, right? A type A personality's wet dream? Scheduled learning time. Scheduled exercise time. Nap times in the middle. A free day on Friday. Weekends open for quality daddy time.

Well, let me let you in on a little secret...scheduled time is just about as stressful as "free" time. We have to be certain places at certain times. On certain days, ole mom here is in charge of snack for the class and if she didn't do her snack shopping ahead of time, then she's got one more thing to get done before she goes to school. And if we walk to school, which I thought was an excellent idea, then we need to schedule another hour (each way) out of our day. And you have to pack lunches if you're walking home during lunch hour and...and...and. You get the picture. Let me tell you - after one week of schedules for the girls, I was one exhausted mama! And let's just say that housecleaning...while always on the back burner as far as I'm concerned...didn't even make it to the burners last week.

For my first week, I think I did relatively well. I hadn't planned on being so tired, but knowing that my girls enjoyed themselves and that I really enjoyed myself too, really made it all worth it for me. We started the grind again today, but I drove to class this morning instead of walking, and that helped relieve some of the stress. We're going to walk to class tomorrow and on Wednesday, so we'll see if those days feel crazier than today did. And I do already have my snack ready for tomorrow's class, so I won't be getting in trouble with the teacher...

So, I ask you, dear reader, how do you feel about schedules? Are you a free spirit? Do you schedule every minute of your day? If your schedule goes awry, are you a basket case for the rest of the day, or are you able to maintain your composure? Please join in the discussion and share your words of wisdom with the rest of us...

History Lesson

Before I get too in-depth with the whole "imperfect living" theory, I thought you, dear reader, might appreciate a little personal history background, so you know exactly where I'm coming from on this topic. So, here goes:

Currently, I am a stay-at-home mother of 2 young girls. My girls are exactly 13 months apart - to the day. We celebrated 2nd and 1st birthdays over the summer. I live in a small house in a smallish town. In our house, we have 2 cats and 2 dogs, in addition to the girls, my husband and myself. We have lived in this house for 5 years now and my husband and I have been married for 4 years.

Prior to the stay-at-home phenomenon, I worked as an editor for a legal publishing firm. I worked there for 4 years and quit just about 5 months ago. Once we took into account the cost of full-time daycare for 2 small children and took a good look at the amount of money I actually made, it basically came down to working to pay for daycare or me staying home with the kids. We decided to give the stay-at-home route a go and so far it's working. This is not to say that it's not a financial burden for us, but we're hanging in there for now. My husband owns his own flooring installation company. He works long hours and lots of weekends, but he's definitely keeping us afloat.

So, there's your basic rundown of how I got to where I am...abbreviated version of course. In the coming days, I hope to address various issues in my (and possibly your) daily life - issues of imperfection I experience as a wife, mother, housekeeper, driver, mind reader, etc. I hope you will stay tuned and join me in the battle for living an imperfect life and being OK with it. Feel free to pass this blog along to other people in your life, if you feel it would interest them!

I am not perfect

I admit it...I am not perfect. In fact, I'm incredibly far from perfect. What?! I must be kidding, right? A person, a woman, a wife and mother, no less, is not perfect?! What is the world coming to?

While it may not be a shock to you, dear reader, that the author of this blog is not a perfect person, woman, wife, mother, etc., it's not the easiest thing for said author to admit. I'm your typical type A personality and perfection, or the pursuit thereof, sort of comes with the territory. The other day, however, I was listening to a local talk radio station and the topic was "living imperfectly." I was intrigued. Being so intrigued, I figured at least one other person on the planet had to be intrigued; thus, the birth of a blog.

Now, seriously, who truly wants to live imperfectly? We want to be the best we can be, right? We want our kids to have better than we had, we want to be good at our relationships, we want to be strong and independent women, we want to be supermoms, we want fulfilling careers, we want, we want, we want... Well, truth be told, I want a nap. A good, long, left lines on my face, my shoulders and hips ache, I don't know whether it's Tuesday or Sunday nap.

About 5 months ago, I left my job as a "publishing specialist" to stay home with my 2 young daughters. My husband and I made this decision after much time and consideration. We knew it would be somewhat of a hardship for us, but decided it was what would be best for our girls in the long run. I was making enough money to cover the cost of insurance and daycare, if I stayed working full-time, and that was about it. So, I became a stay-at-home mom of a 5-month old and a 18-month old. Yep, they're 13 months apart...to the day.

The transition was quite a shock. I've literally been making my own money since I was 12. Not that I haven't had help along the way, but to go from working at least 40 hours a week, to running after a toddler and her still-nursing sister all day every day...well, let's just say it was an adjustment...and not a pretty one. 5 months later, I just feel like I'm starting to get the hang of things. Which brings me back to our topic - Living Imperfectly.

When I was working, I felt like I should be home. Now that I'm home, I feel guilty for not contributing to the household income. When the girls are napping, I feel like I should be cleaning the house spotlessly when I really want to sit down for a few minutes and collect my thoughts. When I play with the girls, I feel like I should be mowing the lawn or doing another load of laundry. When my husband comes home from work, I feel like I should have a made-from-scratch meal on the table and a martini in hand.

The reality is this...I get sick of playing the same games with the girls all day long. I hate cleaning my house. I'm tired of coming up with things to cook for breakfast, lunch, dinner and lord knows how many snacks - every day. Some days, gasp, I let the girls watch cartoons for longer than 20 minutes. Some days, I have a short temper. Some days I dream about the days when I was single and didn't have to answer to anyone. Day to day life can be hard. I am not a supermom. And here's the kicker - I'm pretty sure I don't want to be.

What I want to be is a good person, a strong woman, a loving wife and a kick ass mom. What I want to do is be all those things without falling into the trap of being some kind of crazy super woman who looks like she's always put together but inside is screaming for some Valium and a dirty martini at 6:30 am. What I want to do is live my life imperfectly and be OK with it. And part of me needs to know that other people will be OK with that, too.

Will I be able to pull it off this lofty goal? Stay tuned...