I Took My Cape Off.

Namastè!

I did it.

I don't regret it.

I took off my cape.

You know the one.

The super mom cape.

...and I feel like a whole new person.

See, I grew up without the typical nuclear family. (I was primarily raised by my grandma.) I didn't want for anything  BUT I always promised myself and the Universe that if I ever had children, I would be as close to perfect as I could possibly muster.

You may be nodding your head.

You also probably don't get it.

I didn't want to be a good mom. I didn't want to be a great mom.

Nope.

I wanted to be perfect. As close to it as I could get.

I planned my entire foray into parenting down to their names. (I still have a few left in case Hubby and I aren't finished.) I knew what schools I wanted them to attend--homeschool was first choice, followed by prime districts in four of my chosen cities. I knew I'd breastfeed, they would not consume dairy, and they'd eat as much organic food as I could get. I wouldn't have them watch television--they would read!!! I would have them sleep trained and on this utopian schedule by 2 months. I would document their development with expertly-staged photos and videos.

...I didn't see LIFE looming around the bend, though.

I didn't plan to lose sleep worrying about how many ounces this one drank or how many actual calories that one managed to eat between sprints around the playroom. I didn't plan to fall apart over lost socks or outgrown shoes that were sooooo stinking cute just a few days ago and why can't you still wear them?!

Nah.

I was supposed to be cool, calm, and collected.

Supposed to be.

These days I'm not so into perfection.

I'm into letting the baby sleep on my chest. I'm into making mud pies and volcanoes with my princess. I enjoy everything wild and magical about being mommy to a toddler!!! (He can TALK, y'all!)

There's a schedule, but it doesn't revolve around my art gallery visits or work. It doesn't revolve around whatever cute couple-y things Hubby and I want to do.

It revolves around the little people. The little people we made! (How cool and perfect is that?! We made them and they are still flourishing. Thriving even!)

See, I traded my IDEA of perfection for my REALITY.

It isn't perfection by a long shot...but it's so much more enjoyable to just be in the moment.

I'm learning still. I still have to remind myself that it is perfectly fine if everyone stays in pajamas one day. Or three. We don't have to eat Instagram-worthy meals every day. (Although I do plate a mean display! I make absolutely PRETTY veggie nuggets and cauliflower tots when given the opportunity!)

I threw that "supermom" cape away and actually became Supermom. The real one.

I'm not a hot mess mama by a long shot--my house has to be clean. My kids aren't allowed or encouraged to be bratty. And I seriously believe in cooking 6 nights a week, even when it doesn't happen that way.

Because I'm a type A personality, this "laissez-faire" outlook is taking some adjusting. I have to consciously give up control over the minutiae so I can actually be present in those moments. I don't stage those pristine photos, but I do snap life as it happens when I have a moment.

I stopped letting my past drive my present. I felt a lot of pressure, mostly self-inflicted,  to be a perfect parent. I was subconsciously trying to be that perfect mom for TAYÈ,  not my kids. The thing is, Tayè is an adult now and has adjusted.

Tayè turned out just fine.

Tayè turned out just fine.

I reiterated that because sometimes I need a reminder. No matter how well-adjusted I am  (and seriously, I feel like I do very well!), I still revert back to see of my old coping mechanisms when my back is against the wall or the pressure mounts.

I am a perfectionist because I felt like that would draw the interest of my biological parents. (It's didn't.) I am a perfectionist because that's my insurance policy against being called a slacker. (I'm not a slacker by any means--I know this but I still have a ways to go toward truly internalizing it.) I always feel like I could be doing more, or doing what I'm doing a bit better.

Learning to be gentle with myself has been a process.  I'm a huge critic of me. (That's generally why criticism doesn't bother me--I give it to myself twenty times harder.)

...but I hung up the proverbial cape. I'm learning to enjoy things. I have a huge zest for life. I just have to let myself breathe and not worry so much.

It's a process I'm undertaking with--What else?!--a winner's  outlook.

That cape can stay on the hook, though.  I won't be needing that.

I hope you'll hang yours up too.

Namastè!

-- Tayè K. ♡