Dare NOT to Compare

I confess. I am a recovering comparer. I have been a comparer for the majority of my life. I've compared everything. My body. My house. My talent. My clothes. My situation. My role as a Mom. My spirituality. And yes, even my husband.

My comparative nature started at a young age. In first grade, I was devastated when Chad McDermit chose the new girl over me. I remember studying her, wondering why I couldn't be as pretty as she was.  She wore her dark hair in a ponytail that flipped in one fantastic direction and had the perfect button nose. I had freckles and a mullet. (a fact my Mom vehemently denies)

That's me on the right, at age 5, when the comparing began. 

That was first grade, people! I'm a therapist's dream come true...

I have spent hours making myself (and others around me) miserable because I wasn't as "skinny", "wealthy" or as "perfectly put together" as someone else. I have allowed my thoughts to fester into jealousy and have mentally "thrown in the towel" on hopes that I could ever be as "whatever" as someone else.

What is it in us that wants so badly to be the best? My Mom used to say to me (often), "Brianne, there will always be somebody better [at something] than you. Somebody prettier. Somebody more athletic. Somebody richer."

Talk about devastating. I was so appalled that my own Mother would crush my spirit with such terrible advice. I swore to myself that I would not be like her, but, daggumit, every time I say that, I eat my words.

I have had to work hard on overcoming my comparing ways. I've done a lot of soul-searching and restructured my way of thinking. Here are some tips that have helped me overcome the comparison trap. (I come back to them constantly.)

1. I can not be the best at everything. I can only do my best at everything.  There is a big difference.

2. No one has been given the same circumstances. Be content with your circumstances (past or present) and learn from them daily. "A happy person doesn't have the best. They have learned to do the best with what they have."- Anonymous

3. We can sit around wishing we were a certain way or take small steps in becoming the person we want to be.

4. Write things down you are good at. Focus on using those gifts to help others. When we see the difference our gift makes, we are less likely to focus on things we aren't as good at.

5. Celebrate your individuality. Do things you love and enjoy. Don't spend all of your time looking at things you wish you could do. God has wired every person in unique ways. Enjoy being that unique person.

6. Everyone has struggles. Even the ones that seem to have it all together have "those" kind of days.

7. Learn from people you admire, but don't put them on a pedestal.

8. Everybody is different. Not just in looks, but in abilities. One person's "easy" is another person's "hard".

9. If you focus all of your energy into being like others, you will never be able to appreciate all that you already are.

10. Your worth is not in your abilities, but in that fact that you were fearfully and wonderfully made by a Creator who takes joy in knowing you.  


Turns out, my Mother may actually have known what she was talking about. And besides that, who wants to hang out with someone who is the best at everything? Imperfect people are way more fun. And I think I'm pretty fun to hang out with, if I do say so myself!

Oh Snap! shots Friday

Well, my Mom flies back home to Alabama today.  She's been up here for the past week helping me run the house while I continue to hobble on my crutches. She has loved on my kiddos, cooked yummy meals, cleaned like a banchie and made me remember why I miss so badly living close to her. It will be hard to drop her off at the airport in a bit. (In fact, I will quickly change the subject before I burst into an ugly cry!)

It's been nice having the past three weeks off from full-time Mommy duty. I would be lying if I said I haven't kinda' enjoyed relaxing on the couch, loving on my two boys. (ok, I did do a lot of blogging, too) But, as I gear up for next week, when I am alone with the kids for the first time since surgery, I am having to remember to pace myself. Everything is a little "out of order" since I've been out of commission. I looked at the linen closet today and to my shock and horror, the first-aid kit was where the towels should go and the towels were where the first aid kit should go! (Deep breaths...Deep breaths.)

But, isn't keeping a perfect household impossible? No matter what you do, it gets undone. Without intervention, things decline and become more disorganized. If you ask me, it's proof that the Big Bang is a bunch of hogwash. That guy obviously didn't have a toddler at home.

Kids by nature are destroyers, little litterbugs that drop bits of junk everywhere.  Seconds after I'm done vacuuming, I can't even tell it's been done.

So, here's to all of us who are on the never-ending cycle of household upkeep. Let these picture bring you comfort knowing that you are not alone.

In real life, 

Oh Snap!

Little boys call this "picked up". 

As this little angel below said to her mommy, "It's okay. I'm just playing quiet."

 Teenage daughters like their "stuff".

The kitchen dishes multiply and no one seems to notice but you...

Your comfy recliner becomes a catch-all for random things, and eventually.....

......overflows into the garage/basement.

You take a break from the chaos and try to be all crafty with your kids, but nobody told you that a crayon wreath shouldn't go in direct sunlight...

Oh, and while you're being all crafty, your dog eats your blinds.

OH SNAP!

PS. Next week's challenge is "Everything but the Kitchen Sink." Send me pics of your kitchen surfaces. (boy, do I have a good one that one reader submitted last week!) Piles of dishes, messes your kids make, the aftermath of a dinner party, randomness that accumulates on the kitchen counters...ANYTHING KITCHEN! (no pantries, we will do that another week) Keep those cellphones handy to snap those shots and send 'em my way! Have a great weekend!

A Note from My Mom to You

My Mom and I - June 2012

My daughter’s blog is about “being real, not perfect,” but I must admit to being almost perfect this past year when it comes to achievement. I know this sounds boastful, but I preached 52 sermons, protected dozens of people with insurance as a New York Life agent, provided care to busy children and written and edited a weekly newspaper.

Not bad, huh? How did I do it? I planted the seeds for this level of achievement 37 years ago when I chose to be a mother. Back then my achievements were more along the lines of preparing one meal after another, sweeping the floor a couple of times a day and laundering two to three loads of clothes a day. Daily, I cared for three little children who are now a preacher, an insurance agent and a full-time mother. I wiped little noses, changed cloth diapers (my only choice for the first-born), and performed nursery rhymes and songs to an adoring crowd of three.

As for the part about the weekly newspaper? That was my only direct achievement. The other things I did indirectly.

Young mothers likely think the same way I thought back then – will these tasks ever end and will they ever pay off?

For me, these answers are yes and yes. I do not cook much these days. I sweep the floor maybe once every two weeks or so, and I laundry clothes once a week. My payoff is having three friends with whom I share a long history. It thrills me to see them carrying out their chores happily and dutifully.

God gets credit for my past ability to be happy and responsible during stressful times, such as the times He gave me the peace of mind and joy to endure times when the family’s checkbook did not quite balance, when the children needed extra care during sickness, and when the hot-water heater went out.

I stepped back into the role of caregiver to my daughter’s eight-year-old and 20-month-old this week, as I helped her recover from hip surgery. The piles of laundry, the smashed bananas on the floor, the early-morning, wakeup call from the little one all are seeds for the next generation.

My payoff then will be seeing my children help out their adult children however they can. It will be their joy. 

Uh-Oh. Daddy's In Charge.

On Monday, June 4^th, I am having hip surgery. “Hip surgery?” you might ask. “How old is this chick?”

Well, if you must know, I am thirty-two. And I have a labral tear in my hip, which medically speaking, means my hip hurts badly.

It apparently happened around twelve years ago when I must have had some trauma to my hip. It has progressively gotten worse and most recently has had me stuck on the floor unable to get up. The pain is excruciating and forces me to cry out loudly, which scares my toddler to death.

So, we knew it was time to do something about it. I wondered, though, “How will I juggle everything on crutches? I have a toddler who loves his mommy and an eight year old who relies on me for a lot, too.” But, my wonderful husband was able to get two weeks off from work to take over Mommy duty.

That’s right. My husband will officially be my replacement for two whole weeks. He has been gearing up for the challenge by making spreadsheets for meals and snacks (I’m not kidding) and planning daily schedules. I have a little apprehension about his temporary role for a two reasons.

A.     I must let go of total household control.

Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. The works. I know he will do a great job, but there are certain things that concern me. Like, when he does the dishes, will he rinse out the sink afterwards? Sure the laundry will be done, but will he cross contaminate by putting the dirty clothes in the clean basket and the clean clothes in the dirty basket? These are all serious issues people. I mean, how can I rest knowing there might be food particles stuck to the sides of the sink?

    

B.     He might actually out-do me.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a tad nervous that his spreadsheet organization might just set a new standard for how this household runs. I mean, I am more organized than I used to be, but I am still a sanguine personality, which means I enjoy flying by the seat of my pants to some degree. What if he actually gets it all done and at the end of the day thinks, “Man. What does she complain about? She’s got it so easy. This is a cake walk.”

I know what you’re thinking. “Brianne, that won’t happen.” But, to some degree I guess I worry that my flaws as a household manager might be exposed in a rather dramatic fashion.

Truth be told, I do know it will not be easy for him. I know that no amount of planning I have ever done prepared me for the unexpected. Kids get sick. Recipes flop. Fatigue kicks in. Laundry gets backed-up. You forget to turn the crockpot off and cook your seven-hour recipe for thirteen hours. (Uh-oh. Did I just say that out loud?) 

Being a Mom is hard. Heck, being a woman is hard. Throw in our responsibilities, insecurities, expectations and our complex multi-tasking abilities and we tend to harbor on borderline skitzophrenia!

So, as I glance over my shoulder at my husband’s lofty plans for his two-week stint as Super-dad, I must remind myself to let it go. Whether he forgets to spot treat the laundry or vacuum under the edges of the rug, I am blessed to have a husband who is willing to be my hands and feet when I am down.

But, that doesn’t mean I won’t be doing inward fist pumps when he has to revise his spreadsheets.