Somehow, somewhere, I got it into my head that I had to be the perfect girl. The perfect wife. The perfect mom. The perfect friend. The perfect daughter. Guess what? I was wrong. There was no great catastrophe that made me come to this conclusion. There was no wise person who single-handedly guided me to that place. So how did I come to accept that I'll never be "that girl"?
I was putting the younger boy to bed for the zillilonth time tonight and I walked by the front window. And I saw it. I saw my life. So snapped a quick picture to remember it and the feelings it evoked.
I'm the girl who has bikes all over the yard- no matter how many times I say "put your bike away." I'm the girl who's lawn is completely overgrown in some spots and bare in others. I'm the girl who dyes her own hair in the bathroom because I'm too cheap to go to a salon. I'm the girl who's house will never be spotless no matter how hard I try. I'm the girl who can't decide which craft I want to focus on. I'm the girl who will always have crayon marks and Go-gurt stains on the walls. I'm the girl who struggles with her faith. I'm the girl who has spray paint on her sidewalk where the paper wasn't quite big enough for whatever project I was working on. I'm the girl who yells at her kids. I'm the girl who eats too much junk and not enough veggies. I'm the girl who married the perfect man for me. I'm the girl who has 2 amazing and aggravating boys who can drive you to drink and melt your heart all at the same time. I'm the girl who wears purple eyeliner. I'm the girl who loves her family so much that sometimes it hurts. I'm the girl who forgets birthdays. I'm the girl who is painfully awkward in social situations. I'm the girl who drinks too much diet soda. I'm the girl who is late for nearly everything. I'm the girl who prays nightly that my friends and family will know how much they mean to me even if I don't say it out loud.
I am not the perfect girl. But this is my life. And I will live it the best I can.