If Wabi Sabi means finding the perfection in imperfection, then I'm going to extend this to mean that I don't need to make my childrens' lives perfect.

Oh, sure, I talked a big game about how I thrift store shop for their fabulously stylish Harry Potter tank tops and 1980's Mork from Ork tee shirts. (Yup, that one is in the 12 Year Old bin. Stink is gonna love me for it in Jr. High.)

I brag about our fabulous public school that is giving my kids a better life education than any private one could offer round these parts.

But deep inside, I had mom guilt. "Are they going to have the same opportunities as that group of five year olds with the berets we saw on our last field trip who didn't seem so raucous and knew how to ask for directions to the bathroom in French?"  or "Am I scarring them for life by, you know, making them (gasp) share a room when all their friends have their own corners to read, play and sleep in peace each night?"

Like all parents, I want my children to be shielded from hurt. I don't want them to have any disorders. I don't want them to be teased by friends. I never want them to go hungry on any level - physically or emotionally.

A few weeks back, though, I heard a reknown psychologist speak about how, in attempting to give our kids everything, we are actually "neglecting" them. That in shielding them from natural hurts we are depleting the life skills they need to grow as balanced humans. 

Then, at the monthly art salons I host, our speaker and life coach, Wendy Wood, spoke about how it's not good for us to shield or kids from disappointment. Instead of fixing their mistakes, we should acknowledge them and walk beside them... showing them how to grow through it.

That's all I needed to hear to not make second guess our summer... a summer which consists of lots of library time. Lots of moments with friends. Lots of lazy days spent at the local pool. And...

CHORES

Here's to reorganizing the Tupperware!

A friend of mine is starting to write once/week about good things that happen in unexpected places. It's called "The Happy Miss Project" and very Wabi Sabi in finding the perfection in imperfection.

I talk a big game about not caring about being perfect. I don't want to be a people pleaser. Instead, I strive to be a child of God only where I won't let my feathers be ruffled by others' (and my own... mostly my own) unrealistic expectations of who I should be, why I should be that way, and for fxxx sake why can't I find a summer dress that accomdates my moo-cow breasts and doesn't make me look pregnant?

And for fxxx sake again, why can't my husband just give in and knock me up ONE MORE TIME?

But if I did get prego, what if I had an unhealthy child due to my age?

And... oooh... look out the window! It's a humming bird! Oh, no, wait, it's ADHD!

Huh?

Tangent? Moving on.

....Back to not getting my panties in a bunch by other peoples' inconsequential actions. And yet, it happens. 

And I  brew.

I steam.

I then explode.

And honestly, wtf!???!

At 40, I'm at this crazy cross roads in my life. I know that I simply need to move forward in all areas, but honestly, I get scared.

And fearful.

Take this slide at our local pool. It looks daunting, doesn't it?

It looks intimidating and TALL (probably how a lot of people describe me)  and OMG what's waiting at the bottom?

I could drown! Or worse, lose my bottoms in front of 30 fifth graders on the opening day of summer camp!

But Stink doesn't care. He knows nothing but warm, waiting arms of a life guard will catch him.

And even if he gets water up his nose, he'll blow it out, and then have a blast under the funky bidets... ahem... water structures.

It's more than cliche to say that my kids are teaching me to live as a grown up with joy, but holy hell, it's true!.

They know how to giggle even during rush hour traffic...

They create art, despite less than ideal artistic surroundings (and paint on the floor? Pffsshaw!)

They are beyond loyal (and silly) friends...

And hell, when things get really stressful, they know how to tap dance...

(If you make a crack about my boy dancing in blue sparkle I will reach through the computer and agree with you! I mean, hurt you.)

I love that my little dancer gets that a warm bath is the antidote to all our woes...

I am also aware that I write far less than I used to. (Lucky you!) It's more a record of my kids and some wonky oberservations of life as I see it.

But I have to tell you all that despite my anxieties... Despite my disappointments in where I think I should be or how much further I ought to have grown, I... without a doubt... am beyond in love with the little people that live in our humble home.

I will have something more profound to say next week. But for now, thank you for reading. I love your blogs, too.

I hope you are having as enjoyable a summer in your little neck of the woods as I am having in mine.

xoxoxox... Andrea