Really Proud is Relative

Awhile ago I blogged about my lack of perfection in baking. And today, the Carnival at Crazy Hip Blog Mamas encouraged us to talk about something we are really proud of. I guess, for me the topics are related. I am proud that we make a big deal out of our children's birthdays - without creating a rival to your next theme park, circus or spoiled extravaganza 101. That, however, doesn't stop me from wondering what happened to the cakes of yesteryear.

This cake came directly from MARSH supermarket, and I simply decorated it myself. I looked at what they had, and I couldn't bring myself to purchase their experiments - I decided I would do my own. My little one wanted a rocket cake, and I delivered (sort of) without the grand entrance of Dora, Diego, Spiderman or some character that I didn't have the energy to purchase. I always think I should create my own character, because surely I need the money more than they do.

Now this one was for a princess visiting our home, as she and her mom blessed us with the chance to share an 8th bday celebration. I have created multi-tier cakes, 3-D cupcakes, and even a Blue's Clues star cake that deserves to be memorialized - but this seemed to just miss the mark for me. I later decided that our love, hospitality, and joy for celebration would have to take precedent over perfection yet again. I'm starting to consider this lack of perfection a trend.

The house that FEMA built.
In this instance we are thankful for survival. A dear friend, with my perfection issues, decided that a gingerbread house "kit" was a good gift for my daughter. Our combined 4 kids were overly eager to make it, after not seeing each other for at least 5 months. In case you can't tell, this house has the longevity of , a FEMA house, and would stand for only long enough for the adults in the house to laugh, the children in the house to cry, and for a few pictures to document our errors. The pride is in the survival here - not in the creation.

All of this goes to my observation that in the love of scrapbooking, many people edit out the most fun activities. I have been guilty of creating shrines that don't quite tell the full truth. It is a rookie mistake. Now I glow with pictures of plants turned over, kids caught in the act of powdering an entire room, and the ugly years. That includes some very awful shots of mommy, that are really only to help me remember to eat my carbs more wisely. I guess I'm just proud that we have all grown to enjoy the journey just a little bit more.

Having 3 children, there are countless jokes about what happens over the years. The first child has everything sterilized, the second child gets spit shined, the third child coasts with fast food and baby wipes. I would like to believe I'm not quite like that, but you see I didn't post the 3 tier princess cake for a 3 year old.

So maybe I'm proud of our evolution as a family.
Our Martha Stewart crafts and over idealized goals have been replaced with ad hoc experiences. You want to make snowmen....okay, but I'm not interested in going outside at 20 below. There are more kind and gentle experiences since we've all begun to learn to relax, take a step back, and enjoy each other on this ride.

Intentional Progress Over Perfection

I don't really know where to start. I am really creative. I love to bake. I am a perfectionist in most things. (Written to the tune of "I think I can, I think I can.") I live for everything coming together and seeing every i dotted, and t crossed. Yet, motherhood has taught me a lot about my expectations in life - perfection is a fading memory.

We are on the tightest budget of our lives. We own two mortgages and not by choice. When my youngest child was approaching his 3rd birthday, I knew that we would have a small celebration. I told Drew, "Mommy will make you a birthday cake...." and that was enough for him. I, however, could only remember the multi-tier princess cake my daughter had at her 3rd birthday. This wasn't quite a fair competition. No equity whatsoever.

I don't have a problem with store purchased cakes, I just don't like them. So - I would either order directly from a wonderful stay-at-home mom that made delicious and very fancy cakes, I would rely on my best friend (the God Mommy) who does a tremendous job decorating cakes, or I would work my heart out to really create something fabulous. One year we had a trememdous Blue's Clues cake and I felt bad for every baker who has ever used stars to create the illusion of perfection. 200 stars and 4.5 hours later - I think the cake pan is still hiding from its lack of repeat use. (It has been 3 years at least....)

Drew likes rockets and mommy made a funny looking rocket cake for his birthday. It didn't have perfect letters or the "right" color icing - and I decorated it in the pan. For a woman that lives for perfection - I had failure written all over my face. I don't even have a fancy cake dish for a rectangle cake - yikes. I mean it can be hard to recover from such a missed opportunity of Martha Stewartism. Yet, the only thing that my little boy did was squeal in delight about his rocket cake. He was happy with his creation and was ready to eat it before the picture was taken. There's a lesson to be learned about "good enough" in all of this.

Sometimes I'm ready to climb heaven and earth to accomplish something that requires level C effort. The time, cost and emotional savings can then be placed into some other value added activity - like enjoying the cake with the kids. My husband said as we were preparing to ebay a few items, "How about that South Beach Book - you've stopped that right." I sunk a little bit and was ready to memoralize his insensitivity, when I thought to myself - where is the energy best used?

My energy nowadays is used to write, to play with a messy kid who likes funny looking cakes, to sleep late, to look out the window instead of cleaning it. As a result of this decision - I only promise two things anymore: a clean bathroom and clean dishes, so that you can go potty at my house with dignity, and so that you can have water without fearing for your life. IPOP is my theme of the year - Intentional Progress Over Perfection. So, while I may need to go back over to that beach....I will spend my time soaking up my sons, and my little princess too.






















When you are tempted to think that your efforts aren't really good enough - think again. Motherhood is filled with moments to reach the highest heights - but its also filled with wisdom to realize that Betty, Duncan and Dough Boy who came before us can help us to cherish our priorities. Celebrate "Good Enough" and enjoy the day!

When People Really Get You

About like I planned, this birthday was not something to write home about. In fact - it may have been something to leave home about. For whatever the reason(s), my husband tends to just miss the birthday importance, in severe terms. It isn't that he didn't purchase a gift, he did. It was beautiful. We are on a budget and he was creative and it was very nice. The reality is, my birthday didn't even come up during the course of the day. Around 8:15 p.m., when my kids should be in the bed - I had a technical melt down. I couldn't believe that they didn't do a song, a cake, kiddie cards, the like....my husband missed that part with flying colors. It was a bit sad to say the least.
However, there is light at the end of the tunnel. A good friend had a inspirational moment and asked if she could drop by a few days later. Both budget challenged, this has been the first series of holidays that we weren't really able to celebrate in our traditional fashion. She showed up unexpectedly, with a big bag, hot pink tissue paper was exploding everywhere. She said, "this was a God idea." I couldn't imagine what she had decided.
Traditionally, she has a habit of filling some crafty basket with female items that we never purchase for ourselves. She will typically do some gourmet food, bath and body stuff, some odd ball thing only she would think of, a book, and wrap it with a creative twang of her own. Not this time. It was actually a bit odd.
I sat down at the table to open the bag....and wahla....a LMax Leapster, complete with the Cars cartridge and batteries. A gift that only a mother could love. My friend doesn't have kids and has become a surrogate mother for my three upon occassion. She is the "loving auntie" that has all of the goodie bags, craft distractions and popular toys - just because. We spend our days joking about her eggs and the need to use them quickly, so that I get to be the "cool auntie" for her kids. Meanwhile, what she did for my birthday was not about kids at all. Her gesture was about knowing a mothers heart.
Early this month 2 of my 3 children were having a field day with their Leapsters. One child has been the resident cool gift holder for years, and we purchased the second for my middle child for Christmas. I debated the idea of buying three, and opted for a less costly electronic laptop. I think we've used it twice. The cool gift is the Leapster.
On a visit to Auntie Cool's house, my son said..."I'm praying to God for Andrew to get a Leapster of his own." He prayed for a few brief moments and sincerely asked God to bless his brother. I said to my friend, if I had my choice, I think I would just purchase a leapster for my baby and consider that birthday completion. Our budget was more than tight after the holidays and we have so many competing interests that toys aren't the top priority they are a strategic choice. I didn't think much about it after that - in fact, it was probably surfacing around my March list of things to do. If I modified my Starbucks habit and had a bad day, the Leapster would soon be his.
Instead, on my dreaded birthday - the day I often avoid because depression looms - I got surprised. It is hard to surprise me. I opened that bag and saw straight through to the heart of someone who understands me. Sure, pamper me time is important for any mother. I work hard at my first priority and they are a treasure - most of the time. But during this seasons - when the glass was looking half empty vs. half full, I was reminded about the blessings of friendship. Having people who truly understand you is a gift.
My youngest son squealed, as he assumed rightly so that my birthday gift was his blessing. I get to see the 3 year old manuever his hotly saught gadget after months of patiently being last in line. He was and is thrilled about his leapster. My middle son says, "it's mommy's leapster not yours." What my friend understood was that the desires of our heart are most often expressed genuinely by our desires for others. It wasn't what I expected at all - but it was an amazing gift. A gift that makes you thankful for the people who really get you and don't apologize for understanding exactly who you are. Happy Birthday to me - with a sincere smile on my face.