Letting Go of Perfect

It's 5pm and I am packing Jack and his overnight bag into my little Honda Civic.  "Can I bring my snow shovel?", he asks.  "Sure bud", I say, "but you'll have to leave it in the car once we get to Daddy's, you can't bring the shovel on the train ride home Sunday".  Easy enough, he seems to understand.  And as we pull out of the parking lot of our new condo complex, a place I am happy to call home, I get lost in my thoughts.  Who would have thought that I would ever be driving my son to his Dad's new apartment with his new girlfriend?  Who would have thought that I would be feeling "okay" about meeting this new woman? Certainly not me.  I float in my thoughts waiting for feelings of jealousy, anger, irritation, sadness to rise, but they don't, they really don't.  I feel okay and okay in a good, steady, contented way.  It's not a "fine", it's simply an "okay".  I sit there in my driver's s

I am so lucky to work with an amazing group of middle school students.  I learn something new everyday.  Yesterday, a student came to me and wanted to show me this youtube video, To This Day, based on the poem by Shane Koyczan.  She explained to me that this was a video that she believed every student in our school could relate to, whether they've bullied, been bullied, struggle with mental illness, or are victims of abuse.  She's right.  This video captures it all.  Not only does this artfully crafted video of the poem "To This Day" capture the feelings of those who have felt the "underdog", it also invoked in me feelings of empathy, gratitude, sadness, and left me feeling empowered to continue finding one thing I can do each day to make our world a little bit kinder for everyone in it.  This video reminds us that everyone has inner beauty and they need to keep finding the "mirror" that works to show them that beauty.  It reminded me that I have t

#$@&% *! This is the phrase in actual words that may have come out of my mouth 10 times in a row tonight.  The order of events went something like this.  Jack took his bath.  Jack got into Pajamas.  Jack picked out the book he wanted to read before bed.  And then Jack reminded me, his dear mother, that he was hungry.  Is he really hungry?  Not so sure, but a small before bedtime snack is a routine that was established months ago and tonight I found no good reason to argue against it.  So downstairs I went to grab a small snack for my boy without even an inkling of what was to come.  What may be the most pain I have felt since childbirth.  Maybe an exaggeration, but maybe not. I grab the bag of goldfish and a small bowl.  I pour a few goldfish in, check the clock. 7:09pm. This is good.  Jack will be in bed by 7:29pm, leaving me enough nighttime hours to get a few things done.  As I am going over my to do list in my head, I walk towards the stairs and BAM! #$@&% *! #$@&% *!

As I pull myself out of bed this morning, I take my time.  I  move my legs slowly off the bed and hold onto the bedpost as I stand up, ready to wince as my feet hit the floor and I go to take my first step.  But, there is no pain.  Today I wake up feeling only wonder at what our minds and bodies are capable of.  The limits they can be pushed.  And when you do push your mind and body, the accomplishments you achieve are endless. In three weeks, I will run my 3rd marathon.  Yesterday, I ran my 20 miles and I kid you not that I thought I might die a few times along the way.  In fact about 2 miles until the end, 18 miles into it I thought for sure I'd have to sign up for the half marathon instead of the full.  I was dehydrated, out of water, and sore from my neck down to my second toe that kept jamming against the front of my sneaker.  Sneakers I purposely buy a size and a half larger my normal size. As my friend and I began the last 5 mile trek of our long run, I said, "Okay,

Sitting down to dinner with my favorite little man.  He's calm.  He's engaging in conversation.  Most importantly, he's eating his vegetables.  I notice however that he seems kind of far from the table.  As I go to push him in, I recognize that he has something in his pocket.  That something looking like the outline of my chap stick.  Little stinker!  He must have taken it out of my purse when I was getting my haircut this afternoon.  So, I give Jack the "mommy knows" look and I asked what's in his pocket.  Suddenly, his face turns serious.  "No mommy" he says.  I think to myself, what is going on?  I say to him, "bud take it out, what is it?".  Out comes what I was sure was going to be my chap stick, but chap stick it was not.  Jack had a toy with him.  So I just asked, "where did you get that?" "Who gave it to you?"  With that, he bursts into inconsolable tears.  What is going on? I take Jack away from the table to t

Cruising down the highway. Windows down.  Radio blasting.  Sun shining.  Feelings of freedom.  This is it.  This is the place I've been waiting to be, right on the edge of glory.  That feeling when everything seems to be falling into place.  With moving, a sense of hope for a good life has transformed into action, life IS good.  I've moved into a new home, my home.  A home I've made for Jack and I.  A place that is ours, all ours. When you move and pack up an old house, you rid yourself of so much more than duplicate toys, clothes that haven't been worn for over a year, kitchen gadgets never used, and hallmark cards that have lost their sentiment.  It's a bit like "detoxing" your life.  You rid yourself of things unused, unnecessary, and without meaning or meaning lost.  It could be compared with losing those extra pounds you've been carrying but know you don't need.  Moving takes pounds off your life.  It's a literal way to start anew, ref

Everyone said, "It's new construction, you never know what will come up.  You might not be able to move in by August 15th".  Well, in July, that didn't seem so bad. I got an awesome place!  I could wait if I had to, but I wouldn't have to...would I?  Well, it is now August 25th.  Ten days have passed since August 15th, MOVE IN day and I am not moved in. Okay, it's an imperfect move.  No big deal though, right?  I am only starting back to work TOMORROW and Jack is only transitioning to a NEW Daycare and Preschool also TOMORROW, but no big deal.  Well, of course it is a big deal.  I hadn't planned on being a vagabond living out of my car for a week all the while trying to keep things "normal" for my 4 year old who doesn't always deal well with change (he gets this from me). So here we are on the eve of "Back to School" living out of suitcases at an Inn, a nice Inn, but an Inn.  We arrived today at the Inn around 1pm.  We checked i

August 15th is 4 days away.  August 15th has taken forever to get here, but has also come so fast.  August 15th is the date I've been waiting in anticipation for all summer.  August 15th is the date that the rest of my life begins. On August 15th, 14 Margaret Street will no longer be my home address and while it's been my address for over 10 years, I can't say it's felt like "home" that whole time.  The other day, a friend of mine asked me if I was kind of sad getting ready to move out of my house.  I stood there in the kitchen of 14 Margaret and pondered this.  Am I sad?  I should be kind of sad, right?  So..let me try to be sad.  Truth be told, I'm not sad.  I tried hard to shed just one little tear for 14 Margaret, but I couldn't and that's a lot coming from a girl who is never at a loss for watery eyes at the slightest touch of nostalgia.  But no, there were no tears 2 days ago and I don't think there will be any in 4 days. In 2003, 14

Be Kind.  Listen.  Follow Directions. My son, Jack (now 4) has been hearing me recite these three expectations since  he was 2.  "Jack, remember Mommy expects you to be kind, listen, and follow directions" I would say to him when I dropped him off at daycare, headed to a friend's house, or embarked on an outing.  I could clearly see in my mind, a "pre-teen Jack" sitting in the back seat of the car as I drop him off for his first middle school dance, rolling his eyes, and grunting the words, "I know Mom; be kind, listen, and follow directions". I should consider myself so lucky if I truly believe he'd even mumble the word kind at that point in his life. However, at Jack's age of 2, I decided to put to work a little "magic" I had learned in my training as educator/ counselor.  I thought at the time, "I can handle the "terrible twos", it's all about positive discipline".  That easy, right? So I went forth with

April 2011.  Sitting at my computer on a weeknight.  Jack sound asleep in bed.  No sounds in the house.  No television. No music. No voices.  Just me.  Just quiet.  Just stillness. I let out a sigh.  This was calm.  This was a calm I hadn't felt in weeks, months, possibly years.  The chaos had reached its finale and for four months I had been discovering the challenges and perks to single motherhood.  It was this moment that I recognized we (Jack and I) would be okay.  We could do this.  It wouldn't be easy, but we'd make it and frankly I had learned by then it takes commitment and determination to make anything happen.  I've never been one to take the easy road. This calm , this stillness, this balance was something I wanted to hold onto because it felt good, it felt right.  And so it was on this Spring evening in 2011 that I found my therapist, my life coach who was going to help me be live a happy, balanced, fulfilling life.  My therapist, my coach provided an envi

Register for marathon. Check. Decide on training plan. Check.  Map out training plan to exactly 16 weeks before race. Check. Plan out runs for next two weeks including "Jack care" for the long runs.  Check.  Check out new running sneakers.  Check.  Stock pantry with fuel for long runs.  Check.  Add more songs to running play list on Ipod.  Check. Could this preparation for the start of my marathon training be any more perfect?  Everything ready to go for Day 1 of training, June 25th! Well, this was the plan.  The perfect plan.  The perfect plan that became imperfect when I caught a virus.  A most annoying virus that has held me hostage to the couch since Sunday.  Well, it would have liked to have held me hostage, but of course I escaped to attend to my daily activities as much as possible with a rest here and there.  But to run? This virus has turned my legs to heavy lead that will not lift without the help of a crane.  This of course means no running this week.  No start

In response to a text just this morning, I wrote, "Who's this?  I've lost all my contacts.  Remember when we use to know everyone's phone number by heart" The text back responded with, "yeah I do" as well as a  name I knew well, another good friend's number to add to my new list of contacts on my phone. Over the weekend, "technology savvy" me inadvertently erased everything from her brand new iphone 5 with a click of the wrong button. My only intention was to download some songs from iTunes, not void my phone of phone numbers, emails, calendar events, to do lists, and apps.  But that's what happened and as I sat at the kitchen table looking at the screen on my phone looking back at me with the icon for iTunes and a picture of my phone cord, I panicked.  My phone's screen wouldn't change no matter what button I pressed.  It was frozen. It was stuck. A groan traveled from the deep depths of my pounding heart, up my throat, and o

Be grateful for YOUR Grandparents and YOUR CHILDRENS' Grandparents... First of all I recognize that not everyone has the luck I have of wonderful parents and grandparents.  BUT if you do,  if your parents/ grandparents are great, good, or mediocre...be grateful, honor them. I recently lost my last living grandparent, my Grammie Evelyn on my Dad's side.  I had the most amazing Grandmothers, Evelyn and Emma.  I admired them and aspire to be half of all that they were.  Strong, gracious, tenacious, women who gave a lot and didn't take much back.  They were the matriarchs of our families.  They held this position with grace, love, and laughter. One Grammie, your more traditional type, the other, rather untraditional, however both women I learned from to love, give, and enjoy life.  I miss them all the time and wish I told them more when they were alive how much they meant to me.  I didn't.  I enjoyed every minute with them and told them I loved them, but I never verbalized

"Keep An Eye On Your Dreams", Stephen Edward Blevins     "Keep an eye on your dreams", a quote I've heard and read time and time again.  The author, Stephen Edward Blevins is my Dad.  The best words or wisdom do not always come from a book or a movie, or an ancient philosopher.  My words to live by came from my Dad.   "Keep an eye on your dreams" is a quote I've heard since forever ago. Since being in elementary school and hoping and wishing Santa would deliver the newest Cabbage Patch Doll under the tree and in high school when as early as my Freshman Year, I just wanted to move to Boston as soon as I graduated, I didn't care which college, just get me to Bean Town (city girl at heart)!  Once I moved out of the house (to Boston of course), this quote became the tag line at the end of every email  and every phone call shared with my Dad.   Did I get the Cabbage Patch Doll?  Yes, complete with red hair, freckles, and the name Zoe

"Mommy". "Mommy". "Why are you sleeping Mommy?"  "We're watching a movie Mommy" "Mommy, wake up!" "Mommy!" (giggle, giggle, tap, tap on my face). I remember when Jack first started his sounds.  Next, words started to form from the sounds.  First, it was Da, then Da Da.  And I'll admit, I was a bit jealous.  Why Dada first?  What about Mama?  Sure, Dada may be easier to form from a baby's first sounds, but wasn't I the one who birthed him?  Doesn't that give me dibs on hearing my name first?  Never in my wildest dreams did I think there would come a time when "Mama", "Mommy", "Mom" would make me cringe. Yet, here we were on this evening on a Monday.  A rainy Monday, the kind of dreary rainy weather that makes you want to put on sweatpants, get comfortable, and watch a movie which was exactly my plan.  On my way to pick up Jack tonight, I imagined cuddling up before bedtime w

Another weekend full of bustling activity comes to an end.  Today's trip was one to Dracut, MA to visit dear friends.  As we head home in the car this afternoon, Jack takes a snooze, the windows are down, and the music is on.  I feel relaxed as there is nothing else I could be doing at that moment other than focus on the road, sit back, and step on the gas pedal. Of course, upon driving into the driveway of home, activity stirs up again.  Jack awakes.  Legos are waiting to be played with.  Bags are ready to be unpacked. Laundry needs to begin.  Relaxation for the moment gone.  Time to unpack, think about making dinner, conjure up lunch for the next day, and put away clean, folded laundry.  I am on the move, appreciating every moment Jack plays Legos by himself so that I may straighten up the house that looks rather worn after a weekend of play. As I put away clothes in my room, I hear the pat pat pat of a little boy's feet climbing the stairs with intent.  His steps are slo

This blog is titled "Letting Go of Perfect" because that is what I aim to do.  Just that.  Let go of perfect.  Extensive therapy and self-help books have gotten me to an improved version of imperfection, but how difficult is it to let go of the ideal or at least the ideal in one's head?  Very difficult I am finding. When I set out to create this blog, I had a vision.  A big vision.  A vision in which I had hundreds of followers.  A vision in which ideas and opinions were shared publically and safely.  A vision in which people felt a sense of comfort in reading the joys and challenges of others' lives recognizing that they were not alone with their feelings.  A vision that even included an appearance on the Today Show.  If you know me well, you know this is a life goal of mine, a top activity on my bucket list.  This vision.  This big vision has taken a comfortable seat in the back of my mind for over a year now.  Ever since I learned to laugh at the trials I came ac

Cute?  Yes.  Around my age?  Likely.  Similar interests?  Maybe.  Here I am at Jack's Tee Ball game this afternoon, trying to be the "perfectly" supporting and encouraging mom all the while doing my best not to hover.  I finally get Jack to walk on the field to practice a bit with his teammates before the game starts.  I nonchalantly take a step back away from the players to lean back against the fence only to find myself side by side with this man, father of one of the littlest players, father of the young girl who helps out the Coach, which would in turn make him the husband of the coach, right?  Well, that's what I thought as I engaged in casual conversation with this man after he asks, "hey didn't I see you at the Red Apple 5K?"  Well, yes he probably did see me at the Red Apple Farm 5K.  The 5K that happened in November, almost 6 months ago!! Who remembers someone he sees 6 months ago?  Okay. He's nice.  It's cool to talk running with so

Weekdays are clock work for me.  Alarm goes off at 4:00 AM.  Early?  Well, yes, but 4:00 is to factor in the 2-3 snoozes that come before 4:30 when I actually need to get out of bed to fit in a 30 minute workout before getting Jack and I out the door at precisely 6:33AM.  It's become routine. It's become habit.  As heavy as my eyelids are each morning when I will myself out of bed, the better I still feel to get my body moving in the morning be it on the elliptical or a crazy Jillian Michaels Exercise DVD filled with enough planks that you think you're ribs may fall out of your body. However, today I decided to step out of my box.  Today, when my alarm went off at 4:00 AM and the two ceremonial snoozes had been pressed, I decided, "hey, why not stay in bed?".  I could sneak in a whole 45 minutes of extra sleep.  The sky was still dark.  I could hear the rain outside.  What better morning to take the perfect snooze.   Of course, I debated for about 5 minutes.  Ge

One thing I love about my where I live are the welcoming, quaint neighborhood streets perfect (well perfect minus a few potholes here and there) for that stroll after dinner to digest your food and clear your mind before turning in. From the beginning, one of my favorite "mom" activities was taking Jack for walks, especially at the end of the day as we were winding down for bedtime.  He would be all snuggled up with his favorite blanket and stuffed Ducky in his car seat that latched right into his stroller, other wise known as the "full travel system".  He would stare up at me going in and out of sleep while I would walk and walk, sometimes for an hour or so.  It was a peaceful time for me, my meditation.  My reward at the end of a long day. A year passed and he was no longer laying in his stroller gazing up at me.  Now he got to turn his body around facing forward in an upright stroller taking in all of the scenery.  It was still peaceful.  He would still go in

Are we destined to meet our one true love?  Does fate really get the credit for creating our life partnership?  Is there one person out there for each of us? Twenty years ago, my answer would have been yes, yes, and absolutely!  Well, now I am not so sure.  Can a lifetime partnership be as easy as "it was meant to be", "it was love at first sight"?  Not only do I question this on my experience with love and marriage, but also based on the marriages of friends.  I have friends whose marriages I admire that are strong and solid.  However, I know that these relationships have not always been easy.  My friends work hard at their marriages from what I can see and it is well worth it.  What my friends have is commitment with a partner who shares similar interests and life values.  A commitment that requires work and constant attention.  My friends should feel proud of what they have accomplished as couples, not discouraged by the work relationships can take sometimes.

After 9 months of pregnancy, hours of labor, and painful delivery, we feel "blessed" to hold these little beings in our arms. We think at the end of the pain, discomfort, and extreme endurance, we get this bundle of joy.  But the guilt?  Did that have to come in the bundle too? Come on Moms...single or not, you got it, right?  The guilt. It came with your bundle as well?  This "mother's guilt", where does it stem from?  Tonight, I get a text from a friend asking if I am bringing Jack to march in the parade tomorrow morning.  I cringe...now I have to fess up.  Jack is at his Dad's for the night. And me?  Well, I had already planned out a morning for ME.  Sleep in.  Go running.  Enjoy a peaceful breakfast.  Maybe read a book.  Maybe write on this blog (LOL).  Maybe do the school work I brought home this weekend (not likely).  What I hadn't planned on was picking Jack up from his Dad's at 7am, forcing him into his Tee Ball uniform, and getting to the

Why did I want to start this blog??  To share with others how to embrace your imperfections.  This coming from a girl with a "perfectionism" issue that has weaved its way into her life in positive and negative ways.  An issue that has caused pain and distress as well as success.  An issue she has contended with and has found peace through embracing the imperfect parts. So..tonight's example.  I was so excited to start this blog after 4 hours of driving and thinking today. I was ready to share so much "stuff".  I started with this piece on my grandmothers and how grateful I am for the lessons they taught me and guess what??  I posted it somewhere else in cyberspace that is NOT the webpage of this blog.  And so it begins, let's embrace imperfect.  Let's laugh with it.  Let's just go with it. Hope to share more soon.  In the meantime, if you are a "blogger" and you get this whole thing, PLEASE seek me out and teach me some lessons!! Thanks