I’ve been thinking about the myriad ways we all show up every day at work or as a parent, for our community, as a caregiver or friend, and what the road looks like for us to simply arrive when we have committed to something or someone.
There are numerous obstacles to overcome and it can sometimes feel like an entire day has passed before we have even left the house.
I have been focused on and inspired by how we’re all pretty badass when we continue to show up. Today’s perspective is as a parent, on a Monday morning, and the three hours I am awake before anyone sees me.
I’ve been through a marathon
Not that I’ve had time to fit in an actual run
But in my body, it feels like I did
My bedmate has a bug bite on her bum
She wakes me before 6 a.m. to tell me so
“It’s too itchy,” she says, “Can you please get the cream?”
I suddenly find myself trapped inside the If You Give a Mouse a Cookie book, where, now that I am “awake”, the requests flood in
She’d like cereal poured in a bowl, a show, water with two ice cubes, her blankie and three favorite penguin stuffies
Who can say no to eyes like that?
Luckily I’m back in bed just in time for her brother to wake up
He can’t find his shoes or water bottle
“Who could ever like a Monday?” he grumbles
I agree
His watch didn’t charge last night
He tells me how much he loves me before he slips out the door
The cat is begging for breakfast, the little one wants a packed home lunch instead of hot lunch because she doesn’t want to wait in the hot lunch line and also does not want to get dressed today. Sometime after brushing her hair through shrill screams and before we head to the bus stop, I remember to get dressed for work.
It’s 8 a.m. now. We’re outside and she wants to check on each plant in the yard before we head to the bus stop. She notices how tall each one grew and wonders if the squirrels ate the seeds from the planter barrel, or if her worms survived the night in the bug cage (they didn’t). We get to the bus stop just in time for her to hop on and wave to me from her seat.
My neighbor stops to chat while I calculate how long I can talk in order to make it to my office for 9 a.m. She tells me I look really pretty today as I speed walk to my car.
On my commute I try to land into Monday. The weekend of soccer games, volunteering, playdates, birthday parties and sleepovers is suddenly gone.
I’m now walking to my office. Did I brush my hair? What am I wearing? Is there still dirt under my nails?
It feels like I was sucked up into a tornado and then spit out at my desk.
And now the official, paid part begins. The part of me that needs focus so all the other parts don’t fall apart. I take a deep breath and begin to do my best.
When you show up this way, your imperfectly perfect little self, you win. You don’t let perfectionism get in the way. You are there and it is enough. You are enough.
It’s a practice, like anything else, to show up imperfectly or tired or grumpy. I practice this as I write in this moment, knowing my words aren’t perfect, but they are still worth sharing with all of you.