I know this attribute caused my mother much strife in my upbringing. I would hate to know the number of times she read The Strong-Willed Child because of me.
One of my most vivid memories of striving for perfection occurred on a daily basis in elementary school. I would play "Around the World" in my backyard. The object of my version of this game was to make it all the way around and back with out missing a shot. That's how it started. Once I mastered that level, then I would go all the way around and back at a greater distance from the basket. It was a mind game; one I could never escape because there would always be another level as I strived for my idea of perfection.
Perfection didn't just remain on the court. It was an issue in the classroom, in my physique, and later in my teaching career. My wake up call came recently when I heard my son shout as he tore his tower of blocks down, "It's not perfect!" Whoa, what three year old says that! I do not want my son to think he has to be perfect. I want him to be himself and know that mistakes are good not evil. We learn from mistakes. We grow from mistakes.
I've watched Hamilton teach himself a new skill. He will repeat it over and over until it is "perfect" in his little eyes. I refuse to let him continue to do this. I wish I would have stopped him this summer as he climbed out of the pool 12758 times until he perfectly hitched his leg over the side of the pool and fluidly climbed out. I need to let him know that Hamilton's version of getting out of the pool doesn't have to look like Kelly Slater 's from Baywatch.
It's time to embrace mistakes, allowing them to mold me into a better wife, a better momma, a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend.
Amen, well said!
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Thank you, Shannon!
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