I follow probably too many blogs… blogs about motherhood, about crafting, about recipes, about teaching piano. In some cases they are inspiration. Or support. Or a laugh. Or just a smile at a cute kid having to model his mother’s latest creation. But every day, in some way, at least one of those blogs proves to be just what I needed in that moment.
Today I am stumbling across a new blog… sweet | salty. I found her here. Her writing is fresh and honest, her photography is jaw-dropping, and she is Canadian (Atlantic Canadian to boot). But what really caught my attention was this final question of her interview. It’s left me feeling a bit raw this afternoon:
Finally, what is one great piece of parenting advice someone has shared with you?
The same piece of advice I’ve gotten lately about writing: that one of the best gifts you can give yourself is permission to suck sometimes. We grow up too entitled – we expect life to unfold in a way that validates our world view. Pregnancy, birth, kids, marriage… we make it all mean more than it should in terms of our performance. We’re just this throbbing mess of ego in everything we do. We demand to feel gratified at all times or else it’s all angst and knuckle-biting and it’s inhumane. It’s a humbling and a healthy thing to be open to messing up.
When you embrace your own occasional suck, it’s easier to shake off panic and demoralization. You just roll up your sleeves and do what comes next. It’s very freeing. It’s the only mantra that will ever result in an improved second draft of anything.
That’s it. I have never seen it put into words that struck this close to home but yeah, that’s it – I really really suck at allowing myself to suck. That’s probably my biggest struggle as a new mom and wife. And I know it – I know I’m too hard on myself and that no one expects as much out of me as I do but it’s still very difficult to remember and even harder to escape that downward-shifting self-perception when it starts. It’s so easy to look inward and beat ourselves up for our shortcomings, real or perceived.
I guess embracing the reality of those occasional “suck moments” is the difference between getting through them as a better mother and erupting into a fiery ball of self-destructive craziness.
Huh… something to think about today. Here’s to fewer fiery balls and embracing more suck. 🙂
I am so looking forward to reading more of her blog and photos (and hope she doesn’t mind me quoting her here).