I recently viewed the website of an old friend and was truly amazed at what I saw. Everything about it was absolutely beautiful! She is so talented in all that she does, and is the epitome of perfection. Perfect suburban home, perfect children dressed in perfect clothing, perfect decorations, perfect baked goods, perfect husband, perfect perfect perfect.
As I perused all the perfection I took a look at my own surroundings and for a moment felt a pang. Ouch. I am not the epitome of perfection. Not even close. I'm more the epitome of "What the...?" Then I decided I like the cluster**** that is my life. Imperfection adds character, it is the beauty in this world. A friend of mine has a large scar on her cheek from a terrible car accident years ago. She hates it...I think it's the coolest thing ever.
I guess it's all in how you look at things. I'm grateful for the car I've had for ten years, the one with so many cracks in the windshield it's a wonder it shields anything. I am blessed to have anything at all to cart me and my kids around town keeping us toasty in the winter and cool in the summer. I'm grateful for my tiny one-bedroom apartment with all the mismatched furniture and the Bieske original artwork that is scattered around. I am grateful for the thrift store across the street otherwise we would be eating on paper plates. I'm grateful for my job at the airport. So many people hate that job - I love it. I enjoy the camaraderie of my co-workers, I love to chat with and see all the different flavors of people who disappear to destinations all over the world, and I am proud that it pays the rent.
I'm glad that I was too poor to hire someone to create a website for my photography, and instead bought a book that taught me how to do it myself using code. It isn't the best, most fantastic website out there, but it is mine. I like that my kids have had probably fifteen brand new articles of clothing in their lifetimes. The different hand-me-downs we have received, or thrift-store items we've purchased have allowed Amanda to create her own eclectic sense of style. I love that she doesn't walk around looking like an ad for Pottery Barn Kids (or whatever it's called). Instead she is a walking billboard for Amanda Bieske.
I like being the kind of mom who lets her kids leave the house wearing whatever they want. If it weren't for my lack of uptightedness, I wouldn't have the pictures of Brandon pumping gas in a ski mask and gloves in June, or the one of him wearing his Hulk costume for his preschool Christmas program. I giggle at the memory of him being dressed as Batman for the assessment testing before he started kindergarten, and I love that I had to repair his Spider Man costume because it was so worn. (Do you see a pattern here?)
My life is not perfect, and never will be. I will never try to put on a face for the world to think that I am something I'm not. I value the reality that is my existence...the me who lets it all hang out, good bad or indifferent.