Faith

Anthem for the People-Pleasing Freakazoids

This morning I woke up with a line from Office Space repeating in my head. “Corporate-accounts-payable-Nina-speaking…JUST a mo-MENT!”

I am Nina.  I do my darndest to stay perky and follow all the rules.

But this week, I am de-perked and ready to flip a little tweety bird at life.

How about you?  Are you de-perkied, too?  Are you sick of trying to please everybody in your life?

I’m exhausted and realized I’ve been on my hamster wheel for too long.  The constant worry that I’m getting it right, that I’m pleasing the people around me, has me running my stubby little legs around and around.  Metaphorically running.  Please.  As if I have to explain that.

My kids’ stompy feet remind me daily that I’m not pleasing them, and I try to comfort myself with the knowledge that I’m standing between them and a lifetime of unshowered video gaming.  If I could find a way to harness the energy coming off my daughter’s eyeball rolls at me, we could power the whole house.

I made it to yoga class for the first time in weeks and spent a large part of the class huddled in a ball on the floor.  You might call it “child’s pose,” but I know the truth.  It was “huddled in a ball pose.”  (Speaking of balls – that’s how I should start all my sentences, really – my instructor had little balls of powder on her skin from a failed experiment with baby powder after a run, and I snort-laughed and fell out of crescent pose when she said innocently, “I can’t quit looking at my balls.”  Could you have handled that like an adult?  I could not.  I adore her.)  While in Huddled in a Ball Pose-asana, I felt completely drained of all life force.  Couldn’t even muster the energy for smiling.  And honestly?  It felt good to just show up and offer nothing.  I had nothing for my sticky yoga mat and the other people in the room.  I was a little blob in no way contributing to the area around me.  And it was good.

And so, here is our anthem for the people-pleasing freakazoids:

We are enough.

We are doing the best we can.

Just for today.  Let’s don’t put the pressure of forever on our shoulders.  Just for today, you are enough.  You are doing the best you can.  Which is enough.

People will try to tell you differently.  People will say the darndest things to you.  A couple days ago someone told me, “Oh I’d love to write but I don’t want to neglect my kids.”  Um.  Hashtag neglectful writer mom.

I am enough.

This is the time of the year with testing and the schools want me to take my night owl, party till dawn, breakfast-skipping kids and force them to get a full 8-hours and a protein-packed meal before the bus comes to cart them to their doom.  I am doing the best I can.

We are enough.

Alex tried to talk to me about taxes and I just started rubbing my face.  Talking about numbers always makes me start rubbing my face, like I’m coming out of a long accidental nap and need to snap out of it but I can’t understand what anyone’s saying and so I rub and rub my eyes to wake up.  But I’m doing the best I can.

My friend gave me these new socks, and I love them, because I look down and remember.  I am a great mom.  So are you.

We are enough.

We are doing the best we can.

Remember this: God loved you before you even got out of bed this morning.  Whether everything you touch turns to gold or you never lift your head from the pillow, today, you are enough.

 

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