Perfect isn’t real. I’m a Parent

Parenting sometimes is, working your tail off for a week through illness and recovery, disinfecting, cleaning, decluttering, super major effort, and ending a Monday with a house in shambles..

And waiting for the next 18 minutes on the washing machine that holds the kids uniforms hostage before you can put them in the dryer and go to sleep, in preparation for the 5:15 am alarm that’s looming. It’s life among the living I think when nothing works like you want but everything is still okay.

They won’t die from clutter and couch sleeping and I will survive on little to no sleep but we kill ourselves in process and the pursuit of perfection. Maybe perfect doesn’t have to mean what I think it means (catch the princess bride reference because all things good in life involve a good princess bride reference).

Maybe it’s okay to just be okay. Lunches packed, clothes laid out for tomorrow minus the ones waiting for the dryer, just life…just okay…

So I’m breathing in the evening and I probably won’t clean the living room tonight because 5am alarm and I don’t wanna’ but that may be okay. Just sayin’

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