The Grass Is Greener

Let us all take a moment and be realistic: No one, and I mean no one, is quite as amazing as we think they are.  I say this, not because I lack an understanding of human dignity and miraculousness of our very creation, but because I am guilty (as I know many others are) of putting other people on pedestals.  In our alternate-reality Pinterest-based lives, we dream of being SO good at personal motivation and time management; we not only attempt, but succeed at incorporating those projects, diet plans, organizational cheats, interior designs, and gosh darn it, wedding plans into our regular lives.  Just like we imagine all those other people do, right?  And when we go to a party, we see our friends with their spectacularly behaved children, their well coordinated and flattering outfits, and assume that their lives are just what they want them to be.  We envy our sisters' consistency in Bible study, wish we could get it together enough to just finish that one project, never realizing that we are making assumptions that can be damaging to both ourselves and others.

What we fail at, in these instances, is acknowledging the humanness with which we all struggle.  We guilt trip ourselves over that page filled with ideas that we reasonably know we will never get to.  We think we are the only one to maintain an organization level that is erratic at best; we overwhelm ourselves with what we ought to be able to do, rather than setting realistic goals that we can reasonably accomplish.  We forget, in our pride and perfectionism, that we are faulty.  Inadequate.  Incapable.

Just as we forget our own inadequacy, so we forget the humanity of those surrounding us.  We weren't there to see our friend threaten or bribe her children into good behavior in public.  We arrive at their house just after their 15 minute Panic-Mode cleaning and organizing before company arrives.  We never realize that our sisters' constancy is constantly being encouraged by her family and women's group; she has never been able to manage personal accountability on her own.

And the children; oh Lordy, think of the children!  Been talking a bit with some friends lately about the exercise in frustration that is taking your children to the grocery store.  I think you know what I mean.  I actually regret saying that I try to AVOID taking my kids to the store with me now- and I DO regret it.  They're all at an age (under 6, all of them) when they are more hindrance than help with basically all of my undertakings.  But we home school, which for me usually ends up meaning that EVERYTHING is a lesson of some sort, and I WANT my kids to ask questions, and I WANT them to be able to leave the house and explore the world around them, and even SOCIALIZE on occasion.  Because heaven knows my public-schooled extended family worries for our sanity.

Sometimes, so do I.

The problem being that we were making those outings to the grocery store, me and my +4's, and I saw myself doing those things that I NEVER imagine my friends with small children doing.  To be fair, they probably do.  But I never see those things on Facebook.  A constant litany of "No. NO! Sit down! Put that back! Put that back, NOW! Watch out for the other people. You almost tripped that lady! Stop it!! Do I need to take you out of the store?"  Debating the moral implications of pretending these children ARE NOT MINE.  The soul-crushing obligation to present a HAPPY picture of a family with several children, because the world DOES NOT LIKE more than 2, and they are happy to comment upon it, whether I asked them to or not.

The truth is, these outings were starting to cause more damage than I even wanted to admit at first.  The kids were starting to develop a callous where my barked orders were concerned.  I was too stressed out by the need to "get things done" while we were out shopping, and trying to push to move quickly through all of it to avoid any breakdowns or tantrums while we were there was just making it worse.  Nobody was enjoying it anymore.  Nobody was learning anything, except me learning that no matter how hard I tried I could not, through sheer will power, grow two extra arms.

So now, I go alone.  

More often than not, in the evening, after the kids are in bed.  The Hubby watches baby for me most of the time, despite her breastfeeding full time.  Sometimes I'll take one or two with me, and we'll pick things out together; talk about meal planning, how to judge the ripeness of fruits and vegetables, and they can daydream about the fish tank that they're going to have one day (not if I have anything to say about it).  It is peaceful.  And QUIET.  They learn, and we learn more about each other.  And most importantly, I'm not destroying that very thing that makes them so unmanageable: their unabashed curiosity in the world around them.  That need to explore, and know, and wonder at the amazing new things that life has to offer.  You can only smack their hands so many times before they stop reaching, and you can only quell their enthusiasm so many times before they stop coming to you to share their joy.

These things, too, shall pass.

There are days, sure, when I simply have to attempt taking all of the kiddos with me.  We NEED to get milk, or I simply want to test my mettle, or we have to practice public manners, or whatever.  And I dream about the days, just around the corner, when my kids will actually be USEFUL at the store.  They'll help find things, and grab that box of pasta that I forgot 3 aisles back, and keep their younger siblings busy so I can check out without having to hear the wailing of a 2 year old who hates looking at goldfish crackers without eating them.  But in the meantime, we spend a little time apart and it helps keep our time together more precious.  

So I guess what I'm saying is, if cramming yourself into a mold that doesn't fit is making you or the others around you miserable, find something else to work toward!  Not every parent has the infinite patience and extra arms to cart 4 toddlers around a grocery store, and not every person has the time and creative instincts to become a professional photographer/baker/interior designer/montessori expert all rolled into one.  Sometimes our DIY's don't turn out right, and sometimes we need the support of those around us to actually maintain (and follow through on) a good reading list.  Don't be guilt-tripped by your own humanity, or overly disappointed when you discover the humanity of those around you.  We're supposed to be building each other up toward Heaven, not pretending we're already perfect.