We all know that pride can be an ugly thing. But what I don’t always remember is that perfectionism can also be an ugly thing.
I’ve been feeling really good about being organized in 2014. We’ve been sticking to a budget. I’ve been planning meals and we’ve stuck to the meal plan. The laundry has been manageable and things are getting done.
And that feels good!
One of my favorite things is to sit down and map out the week. And this year Todd and I have been going on weekly breakfast dates to catch up and make sure we’re both up to speed when it comes to the family budget. We make sure we both know which nights we have a meeting at school or church, and which nights we’re eating at home. It gives us a good chance to sit and have uninterrupted conversations, too.
And I’ll admit, that I’ve been pretty proud of myself for getting it done.
Every week Hudson has a letter for the week, and on Fridays he brings in something that starts with that letter for Show and Tell. I picked him up on Friday after school and noticed a lot of things in the other kids’ cubbies that start with the letter P. We had spent all week talking about what he was going to bring that started with the letter P. And Friday morning came and I didn’t put his plane in his bag to take to school.
I felt awful about it. I apologized to him and he said, “it’s okay, Mommy. I found something in the classroom.” Oh that sweet boy.
We had a great weekend at home. We took it easy. We ate a crock pot meal. We watched Disney movies and played board games. On Saturday night, I laid out the boys’ clothes for church the next morning. And on Sunday morning, I took a shower, washed my hair, dried it and got dressed while Todd fed and dressed the boys for church.
We’re feeling pretty good. We’re on top of it. We’ve got it together. Until we walk into church and I immediately notice that the other kids are all wearing their pajamas. It’s Pajamas and Pancakes Sunday for the children’s ministry. And the sweet Carroll boys are in Sunday clothes.
My heart sank. Mostly for Hudson because Hayes really doesn’t know any better. But 4.5 year olds know these things. I wrapped him up and told him I was so sorry that we forgot, but I promised him that I would run home and get some jammies for him and bring them back to church.
I forgot pajama Sunday. I had everything written down for the week. But not show and tell. And not pajama Sunday. I had that feeling when I was driving home that I might cry. I was disappointed in myself for forgetting, and I was actually embarrassed that someone might think of me as the mom who let things fall through the cracks. The mom who didn’t have it together.
After rushing home and getting back to church, I helped Hudson change his clothes in the bathroom. I told him I was so sorry that we forgot. And he said, “Mommy, thank you for going to get my jammies. I’m so excited about pajama day.” I mean. Seriously.
I hugged him and apologized again, and he said, “It’s okay. It was Daddy’s fault. He dressed us.” And I just died laughing. (And couldn’t wait to tell Todd what Hudson said. Because we know it wasn’t Daddy’s fault.)
I may not always have the chance to fix my mistakes. I won’t always be able to run home to get the jammies. But that day I wanted him to know that it was important to me that he felt included.
I won’t always be able to make it right.
But I know two things to be true in this situation. My value and my worth are not found in how “together” my life is or may seem. And I need to check that pride at the door.
And I know that God’s grace covers me. Oh, and my little boy’s grace is pretty sweet, too.