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You know how I’m this stupid perfectionist and I feel like I never do enough/get enough done/accomplish enough? And how it’s ludicrous?

So sometimes when David gets home from work and I’m all like “Aaaaaah, I’m exhausted TAKE THE BABY!” and I then survey my messy house, unfolded laundry, dog-fur laden floors, and half-finished dinner I think I really just kind of suck at this homemaker thing.

So today I decided to count the number of things I was doing during a 10 minute interval:

  1. Wear the baby (because our house is not completely babyproofed and she doesn’t want to be put down right  for whatever reason).
  2. Cool the baked squash (for baby food).
  3. Bake sweet potatoes (for baby food).
  4. Vacuum the living room.
  5. Dry laundry.
  6. Fry bacon (for part of dinner).
  7. Prep acorn squash (for dinner).
  8. Write blog.

Dude. That’s a lot of stuff. How many tiny but not insignificant tasks do I do every day? Somehow the baby has clean clothes, and David and I usually do. She eats home made food. We eat home made food with almost no convenience food because of the whole soy/dairy free thing. I take walks. I go to yoga. I occasionally shower. I breast feed. I participate in at least 2 activities with my mamas’ group per week. I pay bills. I do all the grocery shopping and cooking (though David does some grilling). I take care of the baby full time. I take a million pictures, edit them and upload them. I go to therapy. I even sleep sometimes. And all the other crap that has to get done that you then forget about as soon as you’ve done it.

No, I haven’t written the Great American Novel yet. Nor have I run a 5k. Or met many other lofty ad not so lofty goals. But I’m getting by, I have a beautiful family, I’m happy a good portion of the time and not crazy most of it. My kid is happy and wonderful. I think I need to just chill the hell out, no?

I see light

As of today, I’m feeling much less submerged. I got through my horrendous annual report analysis project with a respectable grade, no less. I would have just settled for “done”. Starting to find my groove at work, learning how to communicate and respond in a very, very different environment than I’m used to. Michelann does not like it when she cannot control her environment, other’s perceptions of her, and her own sense of inadequacy. All those things that you just really can’t control. Of course, the best way to deal with it would be to GET OVER IT, as my boyfriend has lovingly suggested on several occasions, but I prefer to stress out, cry, feel bad, mope, talk about it far to much, and then get over it. And then find something else to stress out about. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Remember the pictures I posted of the house a few weeks ago? Of course you do. Well, now we’re featured on our designer’s website:

Great pictures, no? It’s a very nice room to hang out in. Next on the agenda is the bedroom. It’s going to be hot pink with purple stripes. Just kidding, David. Oh, wait, David never reads my blog. It really is going to be hot pink, shhh, don’t tell him!

One of the unintended outcomes of my finance class, is my sudden realization of my total financial incompetence. From understanding basic terms, to having the first clue about investment and retirement savings, I have been operating at about a 5th grade level. Except I thought I was a fairly financially savvy adult. I was wrong, so wrong.

I have to spend the weekend writing a research paper for my class, which seems like a happy vacation after the last project. Actual prose! No ratios! Comprehension of what I’m writing! After class, we’re all going drinking. Amen.