Practically Perfect in Every Way

For the last few weekends my son has been leveling the ground and placing paver stones in my greenhouse. It has taken much longer than I thought because he takes such precise care with each bag of sand he smooths and each stone he places. The finished product was absolutely beautiful, even though it took about ten months longer than I thought it should. People say he is a perfectionist because he is first borne. But then why am I a first borne and would have dumped a truckload of stones on the grass and been done in about 35 minutes?

So I bought a book on birth order and personalities. Not only did it explain things, but described how I could relieve much of the stress I had been feeling my whole life. It explained that being both first bornes, we are both perfectionists, but I was suffering from imperfect perfectionism. I worry so much for things to be perfect, that if they aren’t, I give up. And feel stress! I need to let things go while also feeling no stress.

How easy! I couldn’t wait to start.

The next morning I started by not wasting time worrying about what to wear. Too much time is taken deciding what matches and what the day calls for. So I put on my favorite blue striped pants and my red checkered shirt. I love both and it made me happy to wear them together. I then put on the metallic gold shoes I wore at my cousin’s wedding. They sparkled brightly and felt very good on my feet.

Next I went into the kitchen to scramble eggs. My son is very particular about just how his eggs are scrambled. I realized this was my first borne stress of pleasing him perfectly. So I just scrambled the way I wanted and let him pick the shells out himself. This was my new life of no stress. Even the smoke alarm didn’t bother me. I yanked it off the wall and threw it outside. It was stressful. Who needs to worry about fires anyway? And it was good to step outside. The smoke in the kitchen was making me cough.

Feeling great freedom in my new personality, I told my boss that I would be in late and wouldn’t stay long. Since my boss happens to be my husband, I didn’t feel the stress of poor job security, and didn’t mind his frustration when I informed I was going shopping instead. But I knew he really liked my golden shoes. He kept staring at them. Probably thinking how beautifully they sparkled on my feet.

After spending the day with no time wasted on work or cleaning house, I was feeling much better. I did worry some about how I would pay the bills without working and how long before I needed a bulldozer to clean the kitchen, but I didn’t fret. It was just first borne stress.

Upon my return my daughter told me that my favorite blue pants looked awful and she would not be seen with me in my golden shoes. My husband was a bit upset at me taking the day off and my son was not happy about his crunchy eggs. Everyone being mad was making me feel more stress. Maybe the book wasn’t as helpful as I had thought. Maybe the slightly messy me that liked stressing to make others happy actually made life better for all of us. Maybe we were all different personalities, but together we made a perfect fit.

So I changed my favorite blue pants, and went back in the office to finish some work. The next morning I took some time crafting the perfect omelet and felt my chest swell when I got a nod of approval and a smile upon leaving. And walked outside to my greenhouse to admire my sons weeks of perfect work knowing it had been done just for me. But as I watered my jumble of plants on a perfectly level shelf, the sun shone down out of a perfectly clear blue sky, and a smile lit my face as I watch the sunshine reflect a million perfect diamonds off my beautifully golden shoes. After all, I am not a perfectly perfect mom. And perhaps my daughter can learn to like beautiful golden shoes. They do feel very good on my feet.