what's 'good enough'?

I got back from my Saturday night gathering a little while ago, and am still buoyant from being there. the topic tonight was about settling for less than perfection - knowing when to call it a day and say that, whatever it is, is 'good enough'. this REALLY resonated with me right now, and it seemed that from the get-go the meeting was all about reminding me of what's what:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.

I don't feel I'm doing anything very perfectly right now. I'm not unpacking and decorating my house as quickly as I'd like. I haven't finished my breastfeeding books, or found birds to go on the nursery walls yet. or made the curtains. though I think I've finally settled on fabric! but I haven't bought it. I haven't packed my hospital bag. my car is a wreck - if we tried to bring a baby home in it right now she'd be covered with dog hair before we pulled out of Methodist. I'm not done with my thank you notes. my to-do list grows and grows, and I'm accepting that I may not actually get caught up until next year.

Lest you think I'm looking for some sort of reassurance that this is normal, let me just tell you that I know, and it's okay. I mean, I do know some of these things need to get done, and some of them eventually will... with varying degrees of skill and thoroughness, I'm sure. I've been walking the delicate and awkward tightrope of unpacking/everyday living and errands/work/rest & water, and I'm very aware that some things have to give depending on how each day goes. my body is betraying the truth of where we are - I'm walking slower, getting up and down is a very thoughtful process, and too much standing sets my left hip on freaking fire. I seem to be constantly reminding myself to drink more water. that part I hope sticks - water really does make you feel better, and trying a sip of diet coke the other day made me want to gag and scrape my tongue.

one of the things I've learned to do is to accept way more help than I'm used to taking. I've always been fairly independent, and have probably taken too much pride in that quality in my adulthood (though it IS something I'm proud of. I really think it's important to know how to take care of yourself). I've been around the block a few times and I know what I like and how I like to do it. there might be a control issue or two there, and boundaries definitely come into play as I try to keep my fence from being crossed by others in ways that make me uncomfortable. having said that, it's impossible to imagine getting through the last few weeks, or experiencing the next few, without a tremendous amount of help. things that might have made me crazy before - like allowing others to put things away for me - suddenly are just a huge relief. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? it turns out I need the thing in this drawer instead of that one, and I move it later. for now, it's good enough, great even.

this is growth. I hope it sticks around post-baby, too.

there was more I wanted to write, but I'm so sleepy. that ice cream sandwich was the perfect nightcap.

-m.y.