Monday, March 5, 2012

Why, yes I'm perfect. Didn't you know?

My counters are never cluttered, I manage all of my financial obligations impeccably, my toddler only eats wholesome, organic, well-balanced -- and of course, let's be serious -- homemade meals, I never fall behind with laundry or housework (because obviously, I never procrastinate), I kick ass as a full-time patent examiner while being on fire with my photography and blogging extra curriculars, I have an amazing boyfriend with no problems of his own AND, what just may be the the very icing on my perfection-cake, I never get pimples and I have yet to sprout a single grey hair. I also have my divorce totally behind me emotionally and totally in.da.bag. in every other aspect.

I also never yell, make mistakes, judge people or say the wrong thing at the wrong time because I let my emotions get the best of me. My emotions never get the best of me.

I am the portrait of perfection.

Oh and not just at life, but at being a mother. Why do you think I left the douche canoe that is my STBX anyway? When you're perfect, you so obviously don't need a husband. Duh!

Please pardon me while I gallop off into the sunset of all that is wonderful, riding my high-horse of ... well, my high horse of delusion.

Enough already.




Starting this blog, I never imagined that in my desperate attempts to pick up the broken pieces of my so-very-shattered existence and move on to somewhere and/or something more wonderful for the sake of my own sanity and survival, and for the sake my son's bests interests, ... well, I just never imagined being accused of being self righteous or even sanctimonious. Frankly, I find the notion that through this blog, I am somehow riding a sort of interweb high-horse proclaiming that my shit does not stink, absolutely absurd.

My shit does indeedy stink. Sometimes, I even have to light a match and turn on a fan.

I am not perfect. I'm not proclaiming to be perfect through this blogging adventure and I am not trying to make any part of my life out to be some freakin' fairy tale where I, the heroine, make zero mistakes of my own.

I make plenty of mistakes, almost daily, and I am the farthest thing from perfect.

I don't even want to be perfect. I literally shudder at the notion. Perfect, to me anyway, is the epitome of boring. Dull. A snooze-fest. Where can I take a nap and never wake up, I'm so bored? You know? I would rather die a slow painful death (like the one I would have suffered had I stayed married to the douche canoe) than live day after day being perfectly boring.

So, in an effort to be as honest as phenomenally possible while journeying from crying over my failed disaster of a marriage towards flying onward and upward towards all that is wonderful and happy, here are the top reasons that I can think of as to why I am so not perfect. Or, stated another way, here are the top reasons why I believe life with me could never be dull.


Phenom's List of Imperfection

Or, Phenom's Top Contributors to the "Cray Cray Crazy" that is her life

  1. At least twice a week, I "lose" my keys and waste a large chunk of precious time that I'll never get back, looking for them. It drives anyone that's ever lived with me totally bonkers. Hell, it would drive me bonkers too, except at almost thirty years young and diagnosed ADHD, by now I'm used to constantly looking for crap that I've misplaced. I'm a total airhead when it comes to stuff. Knowing where it is. Keeping it organized. Both concepts escape me on a regular basis. I have gotten better with the organizational skillz over the years (if you'll only excuse the piles of mail, magazines and paperwork about to take over my kitchen), but the misplacing things in odd places in a moment of distraction just seems to never get any better for me.  It never fails: I get distracted while on the phone with the oil guy, listening to him price out the $700-800 its going to cost me to refill so that we can stay warm for the rest of the winter, and I put my keys down in the freezer while grabbing a frozen dinner to throw in the microwave. I'm sure aging (read, dementia) will just make this part of my life a whole hell-of-a-lot more interesting.

  2. If you are a like-minded adult and you piss me off enough through dishing out fuckery, injustice or just plain old asinine behavior, I will probably yell and/or call you a derogatory name or two. Like douche canoe. Or asshat. That's just how I roll.  Want to avoid a verbal assault? Don't provoke the Irish, hot-tempered beast that lives inside of me. I use up all of my patience and will to keep frustration levels at a minimum throughout the day-to-day of being a single, working parent to a very young child ... I can not, or rather will not, waste a single ounce of patience reserved for mommyhood on anyone or anything that does not deserve painstaking efforts to keep my cool and play nice. Yes, I hang up on telemarketers only after I've screamed "I'm on the 'do not call' list, asshole!"  Some ignorants believe yelling to be a symptom of one's lack of self control. I, however, view myself as a passionate and out-spoken person who yells as a way to vent my frustrations thereby keeping my temper in check so that I don't have to resort to excessive violence and gunning down people who piss me off.

  3. I bite off more than I can chew and, subsequently, choke on occasion. In short, I over-commit and stretch myself thin. Instead of moving forward towards something wonderful, I sometimes find myself spinning around in chaos never really moving anywhere coherent. Example: I owe edited photography to at least four clients and I am more than just a couple of months behind with my start-up. Unfortunately, because I spend so much time blogging instead of working my full-time paying job, managing the shit show that is my separation and divorce, raising my toddler, cleaning up after an obnoxious and very large dog and taking care of myself ... well, I just can't seem to give my photography the attention it deserves right now. I keep putting it on the back burner. I keep procrastinating. Why? Oh, because I obviously suck and will never turn my hobby into a real business through this self-sabotage that I am just so perfect at! (if you are one of the people I owe pictures to and you are reading this, I will get them to you very soon and I am so sincerely sorry for the delay!)

  4. I sometimes ignore my child and/or let him entertain himself while the TV is tuned to the Sprout channel. Someone please call social services (I'm being sarcastic, FYI. Until someone invents a sarcasm font, I'll occasionally have to spell that out for you). Now, for the record, I do not attend to this blog during C's waking hours, unless he is not in my care. But I do have to use the potty, heat up frozen dinners, brew endless pots of coffee, pluck my eyebrows and play with the dog so, on occasion, I like to test the theory of unstructured play by letting C practice self-sufficiency and independence.  In all honesty, 30 minute intervals of sitting on the floor playing with a one and a half year old is all I can muster for my own attention span. Maybe that makes me a horrible mother? I don't know. What I do know is that I have ADHD and I'm doing the best I can while I trudge through this divorce while working full-time.  I do play with C, one-on-one, down on the floor every single day for at least a half hour before dinner and a half hour after dinner. Hopefully, I get some kind of credit for actually getting down on the floor to play with my child on a regular basis. No? Whatever. Have I mentioned yet that this blog is not about self-validation either? I'm not a narcissist. I leave that up to the STBX. Anyway ... I guess what I'm basically admitting is that not only am I not a perfect mom, but I don't even think I'm the "best" mom. I am just a single, loving, hard-working mom doing the best she can with the hand she's been dealt. And I love my kid more than life itself and he knows it.
I could probably list a few more imperfections on my part, but these four have got to be my biggest "problems". Is this "a lot", I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that I'm imperfect. I'm classic ADHD, a yeller when angry or upset, I have horrible personal management skillz and motherhood is sometimes not all its cracked up to be.

Stated another way, life with me is busy, passionate, never dull or predictable and totally full of LOVE through the mistakes, shit that stinks, imperfections and hypocrisies.

I may not be perfect, but I sure as hell am working on being wonderful. No one ever said wonderful had to be perfect. 

12 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Thank you!!!! You just made me smile so big. I was afraid I had rambled on too long. But sometimes, I just have a lot to say. Okay, okay ... fine. Often, I have a lot to say. ;)

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  2. Do not let "haters" get to you Phenom. They do not know you. We all know that starting over wonderful doesn't mean constantly coming to a blog to say how imperfect you are or posting the bad. Normal people know there is bad.

    Continue your wonderful journey and know that many read your posts and support you.

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    1. BTW Have you seen my keys?

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    2. It's OK. I welcome haters. They bring traffic, inspire me to continue my own personal self-reflection and growth and they also remind me that I'm obviously doing something halfway interesting otherwise they wouldn't be here hating on me.

      I enjoyed sharing some of my "bad" in this post. I read a lot of other blogs out there and always take comfort when a fellow blogger shares one of their own personal struggles, imperfections or flaws. Maybe someone out there will read this post and find comfort in that they are not the only ones out there that accidentally lose their keys in the freezer. Or the fridge. Or the utensil drawer.

      Once I found the house phone, when I had one of those, in the vegetable drawer in the fridge. Don't ask. I have no idea. Sometimes, I really wonder how on earth I can be so dumb while being as smart as I am. It is totally perplexing. Like, what was I thinking about that made me place the handset in with the lettuce, close the drawer and then shut the fridge? Really!?!!!

      P.S. Make sure you check the ignition for your keys. Sometimes, I "lose" mine there too.

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  3. I'll take wonderful over perfect every time.

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    1. Me too! Sometimes, "flaws" and imperfections can be part of what makes someone or something truly wonderful.

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  4. This is totally awesome <3.... Makes the "imperfections" in my own world validated :) love you and yes this is the best post yet, so deep and yet so completely honest.

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    1. Thank you! Any hint as to who you really are IRL (in real life) would be greatly appreciated. You know, since you love me and all ;)

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    2. LOL silly lady :) its Hollie

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    3. Hehe. I love you too, chica! We are about 3 months overdue for a get together!!! That needs to be remedied. Stat. Before that little boy of yours gets here!!!!!

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  5. This struck something with me. I want so badly to be supermom from child birth on I set outrageous goals starting with all natural birth. Checked that box now onto breastfeeding. I didn't have bottles washed or formula in the house and the day after I went home from the hospital the visiting nurse panicked because my son was loosing weight and clearly not eating, I thought he was, and insisted i get formula and bottles. I managed to not use the formula but pumping and bottle feeding was tough to accept until we ended up back in the hospital under the lights and it was the only option. The LC assured me it would be OK, 6 weeks later we were 99% back on the boob however at this point I welcomed the one bottle a day break. Fast forward to 5mo and it was time for food, i must make it no store bought food, a lofty goal for a working mamma. I don't know why I set such high expectations for my son I certainly don't take care of myself this way. I would eat cookies for all meals if i could. Here I stand 19mo later now promoted to a Sr Level position that I choose to try and fit in 34 hours a week rather than 40 just so i can have 1 day home with the boy and not feel the guilt of LOVING to work. I have a lot of help, a house cleaner, a meal maker, a husband who I joke is a better wife than I but I still want to be perfect and it really is a huge burden. I wish I could let it go. Oh and your comment "30 minute intervals of sitting on the floor playing with a one and a half year old is all I can muster for my own attention span." Ugh I can't do it. Some days I just can't sit on the floor any longer and watch my son push trucks across the floor, throw balls, or tear books apart. I feel guilty because it is these moments I am like ugh I just want to be at work, I know how to be there. Ramble Ramble I know but as much as you joke in the 1st paragraph I so want that to be me.

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