Progress vs. Perfection

I can't believe how long it's been since I've posted on my blog! Not that I haven't had a million and one things to write about, but for some reason I haven't had the energy (or more accurately the focus) to sit down and type. Pregnancy and energy is a funny thing--some days I miraculously have the energy to clean and scrub and organize everything in the house, and then other days all I want to do is sit on the couch with a good book.

I had my last day of work on Halloween and it has been the most wonderful thing in the world to have more free time on my hands to get things ready before the baby comes. Speaking of which, I only have 2 weeks and 3 days left until my due date but I'll tell ya, if this baby really does wait that long to come these will be the longest 2 weeks of my life. Everyone always talks about how rough the last month is but until recently I had no comprehension of what that meant. After a while I start to get used to the painful cramps, shooting leg pains, going to the bathroom every 5 minutes (literally!), and lots of other stuff I won't gross you out with...only to wake up and find a new pain to add to the list. At my last Dr. appt I was 1 cm dilated and 40% effaced so I still have a ways to go, but with all the contractions I've been having this last week I'm hoping we've made at least a little progress!

On a totally different note, I've been thinking a lot about perfection lately. Getting ready for this baby has definitely brought out the maniacal side of me at times--even though I know it's ridiculous I feel like I have to read every guidebook out there (whether it's on sleeping, breastfeeding, calming, or sponge bathing!), buy all the perfect stuff, have the most darling baby clothes I can find, and basically have everything in my life in absolute perfect order so I'm ready to be a mom. I know that everyone who's ever had a kid probably experiences these exact same feelings on one level or another, but unfortunately I tend to take normal tendencies--like being stressed and anxious--to the extreme--like being so stressed and anxious that I can't stop cleaning and scrubbing and organizing even when it's 11:30 at night and I'm about to pass out from exhaustion! Or knitting 100 different baby beanies because I have no clue how big his head will be and I have to be sure at least one will fit. Speaking of beanies, I have a whole slew of hats that I'm probably going to be donating this winter, so if any of you want hats for yourself or kids let me know before they go! This is just a handful of the many.

So, back to perfection. I've been reading this really interesting book called "Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters" and I love it because it applies not only to those who have struggled with eating disorders, but really to all the girls growing up in this world that feel so much pressure to be perfect. A lot of it is stereotypical and may not apply, but I thought I'd share a couple quotes.

"The mothers I knew were often grinding their teeth and trying to outdo one another in landscaping and SUVs. The fathers--mostly doctors and lawyers--were socially accepted workaholics who attended big games and graduations still in their suits. The sons were out on the field 24/7, dreaming of Big Ten schools. And the girls...were perfect.

"Yet these perfect girls still feel we could always lose five more pounds. We are the captains of the basketball (or tennis!) teams, the soccer stars, the swimming state champs with boxes full of blue ribbons. We win scholarships galore, science fairs and knowledge bowls, spelling bees and mock trial debates. We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans.

"We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving. We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others. We carry the old world of guilt--center of families, keeper of relationships, caretaker of friends--with the new world of control/ambition--rich, independent, powerful. We are the daughters of those who said 'You can be anything' and we heard 'You have to be everything.'

"We must get A's. We must make money. We must save the world. We must be thin. We must be unflappable. We must be beautiful. We must make it look effortless. We grow hungrier and hungrier with no clue what we are hungry for. The holes inside of us grow bigger and bigger.

"A starving daughter lies at the center of each perfect girl. The face we show to the world is one of beauty, maturity, determination, strength, willpower, and ultimately, accomplishment. But beneath the facade is a daughter--starving for attention and recognition, starving to justify her own existence. She is the one who doubts her abilities. She gets scared, lonely, homesick. When neglected, she seeks comfort in cookies, ice cream, warm bread--transgressions that make the perfect girl in us angry.

"Starving daughters are full of self-doubt. We don't want to worry so much about making other people happy but feel like we can never say thank you enough times, never show enough humility, never help enough, never feel enough shame. We feel guilty. We fear conflict. We are tired of trying so hard all the time. We feel like giving up. We want love, acceptance, happy endings, and rest. We wish that we had more faith, that we weren't ruled by our heads and could live in our hearts more often. We try to fill the black holes inside of us but we never feel full.

"Young women struggle with this duality. The perfect girl in each drives forward, the starving daughter digs in her heels. The perfect girl wants excellence, the starving daughter calm and nurturance. It is a power struggle between two forces, and at the center, almost every time, is an innocent body."

"The body is the perfect battleground for perfect-girl tendencies because it is tangible, measurable, obvious. It takes four long years to see 'summa cum laude' etched across our college diplomas, but stepping on a scale can instantly tell us whether we have succeeded or failed. The cruel irony is that although we become totally obsessed with the daily measures of how "good" or "bad" we are (refused dessert = good; didn't have time to go to the gym = bad), there is no finish line. This weight preoccupation will never lead us anywhere. It is a maniacal maze that always spits you out at the same point it sucked you up; wanting. We keep chasing after perfection as if it is an achievable goal, when really it is the most grand and painful of all mirages."

Sorry, that was a lot of quotes but I feel like the message is so important, if not for ourselves for the daughters we are trying to raise in this crazy world. The conundrum is that even though we know perfection is unattainable and elusive, progress is important and vital to our happiness. The constant battle is learning to take things one step at a time and to recognize that our efforts (however small they might be) are enough. For me, that's where the gospel comes in. When we measure ourselves by the scales of the world we always come up short, but when we turn to God to validate our self-worth we find love and acceptance no matter where we are. The things of the world will never be enough to fill those deep, black holes, but somehow God not only fills those holes, but does so beautifully. And we realize there is a heck of a lot more to life than being perfect.