To say I’m a perfectionist would be very close to the truth. I like things a certain way and I like them to have been done a certain way to get there. This was my biggest fear before my daughter was born in 2011. I worried that my need for other people to do things correctly would be the same with my child as it was with adults, and I knew that expecting anything from a child besides presence was expecting too much. So I worried and I wondered, and then as babies do she arrived.
And there I was holding this tiny person, this tiny perfect person. She was so small and so fragile and made from so much love that I immediately dropped my fears and knew that I wouldn’t expect her to do things a certain way, because in her own creation she was the most amazing, perfect things I’d ever seen.
Fast forward to toddler-hood and the real test (so far) of this theory, but even in her juice spilling, food throwing, doesn’t quite follow directions glory I still found myself thinking that she’s doing it all with such quality and finesse and what’s a little spilled juice and missed direction when it comes to the amazing person you’ve created? It’s all part of the stage and I was and am often overcome by the way she does things and the intelligence in her actions even if they’re not the actions I was hoping for.
Now don’t get me wrong, sometimes I get completely overwhelmed. I cry(even when I’m not pregnant) and wonder if I’ll ever make it through this whole parenting thing, and I have moments when perfect isn’t the word I would use to describe my little hellion, but the truth is, she is perfect. She’s perfectly her, so at the end of the day when I’m looking at the things we’ve done and the way I’ve handled each situation I find myself always wishing I’d just let her be perfect, let her be the perfect person that she is naturally, the one that she is growing into, the one that my husband and I have the blessing to guard and nurture until she can blossom into a self confident adult who knows that it is her uniqueness and those things that could be considered imperfections that make her who she is, and that just in being true to herself and her character she is perfect.
So today when she takes all the measuring cups out of the drawer and asks to paint for the 10th time while I’m trying to get things done; I will stop and ask myself “Why can’t she do this?” and if I can’t come up with a good reason then I certainly can’t say no to her, and really what’s a little extra time teaching her to clean up when she’s done in the kitchen? Or the few moments and the casual supervision it takes to get her ready to paint?
Everything… that’s what those things are. They’re valuable life lessons and encouragement that will last her her whole life, and are far more important than finishing the dishes or avoiding a little bit of paint on the walls. So I let her paint, I let her paint and I give her the freedom to experiment and learn. I don’t tell her how to paint or correct her when she begins to use her hands. I just let her paint because the way she paints in perfect.
Thank you for reading and please feel free to comment and/or as questions.
India's Roses 