Are you a perfectionist? Do you have the discipline the master a craft, profession or hobby, to play a musical instrument? Do you spend hours...days...weeks... practising? working at your passion? learning everything you can about something you love to do?
I am.
I am a perfectionist.
But I am not your standard run-of-the-mill perfectionist. I am not the perfectionist who spends hours, days months and years in disciplined activity desperately trying to better my skills.
I am the anti-perfectionist. The kind of perfectionist who is so afraid of failure, so paralysed by the idea of not being perfect straight away, that I give up on things before I have a chance to fail.
This most annoying attitude applies to many many things... like playing piano, singing lessons, writing stories, academic study, keeping my house clean (or just generally being the "perfect housewife"), playing sport of any kind, controlling a class, cooking...
It is a frustrating trait. For me, for my husband (who would totally love it if I took up further study, or became the domestic goddess that he sometimes wishes I was...). I would totally love to excel at everything I love instead of feeling mediocre at everything.
I would be able to say "Yes I play flute and oboe and piano", instead of saying "well I played flute for a few years, and my piano teacher fired me because I wouldn't practice". I would be able to say (like a friend of mine) "Sure, I love cooking. I cook every meal my kids eat; breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday", instead of saying "No I don't cook. My husband does all the cooking in our house. But I bake" in a please-don't-judge-me tone.
Some people would laugh at me. Some would say "work harder at doing better". And they would both be right. It is comical to be the anti-perfectionist. But it would be more godly to say "Screw my tendencies towards failure avoidance. I am going to work harder to perfect the skills and knowledge that God has given me the capacity to achieve". For once I could stop being extremely intelligent and capable in my own mind, and actually be that way.
Showing posts with label pride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pride. Show all posts
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Friday, September 17, 2010
Stay at home...
"So what do you do?"
"I'm just a mum..."
It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I was somewhat reluctant to give up teaching. I was always worried that being at home all the time with a baby would mean that my brain would turn to mush through lack of adult conversation.
It was of course my pride talking when I used to say such things. I have too much pride. It often gets in the way of my emotional and spiritual growth. But one thing I have learned: pride is not a godly response to blessings from God. I have been blessed with intellect and I am overly touchy about any potential slurs against it. So for me the idea that my brain might turn to mush whilst taking on the (supposedly) thankless tasks of parenting was terrifying. It meant shelving ideas of further study whilst teaching. It meant being "chained to the home" or so I thought.
What has been the reality?
The reality has been a double edged sword. In some ways it is much easier than I expected it to be. Bede has been a (relatively) easy baby to live with (no matter how much I may whinge on facebook). He has always been a good eater, on the whole a good sleeper (with some exceptions to be addressed in future posts), and a very smiley happy little boy. My brain hasn't turned to mush as I feared it would. I have been able to get to at least one Biblestudy group a week, to Moorewomen each week, to Mother's group most weeks, and to visit and support a very good friend and fellow maternal traveller more weeks than not. I have enjoyed not marking exams or writing reports, or dealing with recalcitrant students.
On the other hand, I have often struggled with my own expectations of myself. I often have to revise what I can actually achieve with a baby in tow, how many things I can actually get to each week around sleeps and feeds. On occasion I have had to clear the decks for the sake of a few days of good sleeps (for Bede) whilst champing at the bit to get out the door. I can be very ungracious about putting aside my need for human contact for the sake of Bede's need for stability and routine.
Don't get me wrong. I love routine!! I made a big effort to get Bede into a routine rather than feeding on demand. I'm a teacher so I love control and predictability. In a sense, having a baby has been the hardest thing I've ever done simply because it means surrendering my need to control and regulate. It has meant slightly freaking out when Bede doesn't do what the books say he should and when (for the record he generally does things ahead of time...both good and bad).
Anyway. The upshot is that yes I was reluctant to give up my working life. And yes I thought parenting would be one long round of hell and isolation. Was I correct? No I wasn't. I was wrong.
There. I've said it. I love being a mum. I love looking after Bede each day.
But why is it so hard to admit that?
Pride. One of my most glaring defects and sinful attitudes. I should be able to shout my joy in Bede from the rooftops. But because of my pride, I whisper it shamefacedly, embarrassed by my own backflips...
"I'm just a mum..."
It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I was somewhat reluctant to give up teaching. I was always worried that being at home all the time with a baby would mean that my brain would turn to mush through lack of adult conversation.
It was of course my pride talking when I used to say such things. I have too much pride. It often gets in the way of my emotional and spiritual growth. But one thing I have learned: pride is not a godly response to blessings from God. I have been blessed with intellect and I am overly touchy about any potential slurs against it. So for me the idea that my brain might turn to mush whilst taking on the (supposedly) thankless tasks of parenting was terrifying. It meant shelving ideas of further study whilst teaching. It meant being "chained to the home" or so I thought.
What has been the reality?
The reality has been a double edged sword. In some ways it is much easier than I expected it to be. Bede has been a (relatively) easy baby to live with (no matter how much I may whinge on facebook). He has always been a good eater, on the whole a good sleeper (with some exceptions to be addressed in future posts), and a very smiley happy little boy. My brain hasn't turned to mush as I feared it would. I have been able to get to at least one Biblestudy group a week, to Moorewomen each week, to Mother's group most weeks, and to visit and support a very good friend and fellow maternal traveller more weeks than not. I have enjoyed not marking exams or writing reports, or dealing with recalcitrant students.
On the other hand, I have often struggled with my own expectations of myself. I often have to revise what I can actually achieve with a baby in tow, how many things I can actually get to each week around sleeps and feeds. On occasion I have had to clear the decks for the sake of a few days of good sleeps (for Bede) whilst champing at the bit to get out the door. I can be very ungracious about putting aside my need for human contact for the sake of Bede's need for stability and routine.
Don't get me wrong. I love routine!! I made a big effort to get Bede into a routine rather than feeding on demand. I'm a teacher so I love control and predictability. In a sense, having a baby has been the hardest thing I've ever done simply because it means surrendering my need to control and regulate. It has meant slightly freaking out when Bede doesn't do what the books say he should and when (for the record he generally does things ahead of time...both good and bad).
Anyway. The upshot is that yes I was reluctant to give up my working life. And yes I thought parenting would be one long round of hell and isolation. Was I correct? No I wasn't. I was wrong.
There. I've said it. I love being a mum. I love looking after Bede each day.
But why is it so hard to admit that?
Pride. One of my most glaring defects and sinful attitudes. I should be able to shout my joy in Bede from the rooftops. But because of my pride, I whisper it shamefacedly, embarrassed by my own backflips...
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