Woah horsey, stop trying to control everything

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With the rain flicking the roof all day making me feel as though I’m a Seattle resident, it’s the perfect day to sit on my bed and evaluate a stack of papers for usage, mechanics, and punctuation. I always feel badly about shirking home duties while I’m at home as I hear the finished dryer cycle beep and the echoes of the dishwasher being emptied by little hands that are oh so new to household responsibilities, but en route to 365 days of a better me – with my ebb and flow change of New Year’s resolutions – I’ve decided to add another goal for myself: stop trying to control everything and expect it to be done in the manner in which I deem ‘perfect.’

The Christmas undecorating extravaganza this year experienced a marked change. With me still in recovery mode and unable to lift and bend, for the first time my husband and the kids stripped the trees and packaged the holiday decor to be squirreled away for the year. It was done as one of those ‘surprise mama’ moments. I heard whispers coming from downstairs up the stairwell that evening, but aside from the hushed voices I’d never have suspected a thing as I half slept through the process. The next morning, during ‘the Grinch stole Christmas’ prideful unveiling by my very own Max and Cindy Lou Who with Christmas stashed away, I winced at the thought of trudging up to the attic alone during the blistering heat of the summer for my own celebration of Christmas in July trying to sort what they’d packed in their own method of organizing. Especially after finding the little terra cotta pot that had been painstakingly repaired with clear nail polish and neatly placed on a paper towel, I wondered what other carefully repaired items were packed away. I’d had the inclination to toss the pot one day this week when I’d found it mistakingly lingering in the kitchen cabinet, forgotten by its fellow comrades from the properly label maker labeled ‘nature tree’ Christmas container, but as it rolled in my hand with its jagged imperfection, seeping dried nail polish lines, and poor repair job, I marveled that it wasn’t ‘my perfect’ but made me so happy that it was the most charming attempt. Whatever treasures to behold next holiday season from the expedited whisking away of the holiday baubles this year was done with their sweetest intentions – with that even this old Grinch’s cold heart swelled at the thought and I stuck the pot back in the wrong spot to enjoy it again the next time I open the cabinet.