Thursday, November 7, 2013

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

As I was scrolling through Facebook, I saw a post by one of my friends reading,



How unbelievably true. 
Sometimes we mess up.
Sometimes everything is hard.
Sometimes I don't do the right thing.

This post is as much directed to my heart as it is to everyone else's, and to be honest, here are a few things I deal with on a weekly basis. In the spirit of dispelling the myth that some parents/couples/adults have it all together, let me be very open with you.

  • Sometimes Roman makes me so crazy frustrated that I put him in his crib and lay on my bed and cry until I feel like I can pray for a better circumstance or a better attitude.
  • I typically don't fold or put away ANY of my laundry. Like none of it. I wash it, dry it, and throw it in a basket in my hall. I spray Downy wrinkle releaser on stuff or tumble it for a few minutes in the dryer. I also don't sort my clothes by color. I wash baby stuff in one load and Mommy & Daddy stuff in all the others. (just because I eliminate fragrance from Roman's laundry)
  • My bedroom floor has little piles of dirty clothes on it because all of my hampers are filled with clean clothes that I won't put away.
  • I drink way more caffeine than a breast feeding mom should..
  • I honestly don't try that hard to make Roman sleep in his crib all night. Sometimes I just let him sleep in our bed all night because with our busy schedules, that feels like the only time all three of us can be together.
  • I take my education for granted. I think about quitting on a daily basis, but I have to remind myself that this is the only chance I will get to graduate debt free.
  • I bounce between an over-glorification of myself and an over-glorification of others -- a.k.a. A depreciation of myself. I may do a great job on my make-up (which is a fun hobby for me, not a mask I hide behind) and pick out a really cute Fall outfit, but then I catch a glimpse of my (literal) neighbor leaving for work with her long shiny hair and her sophisticated outfit and suddenly I feel like 2 cents instead of a million bucks. 
We live in a Pinterest culture where you have to feed your family Paleo-organic-not processed-homemade with love dinners in your Pier One catalog dining room while looking like you have a personal stylist.

Holy crap. Get real. No one lives like this. 

And if we're talking about comparison of relationships, Dillon and I argue about 
dumb stuff like chores. 

Like all couples, we argue about stuff like why there are 10 Starburst wrappers on the entertainment center (Dillon) or who let Roman have a sippy cup with a loose lid that resulted in water being poured all over his body and our carpet (Me). These little 1 minute arguments are normal and we typically apologize and say I love you. We've only been married for a year and three months, so more serious fights may come up in the future, but we picked marriage, and we picked forever. That means a lot to us, so we put our arguments into perspective and work things out.

We don't have it all together.
Don't be fooled by all the pictures on Facebook  - my child does misbehave and cry!
Sometimes I misbehave and cry. 

Comparison is the thief of joy. Your happy doesn't have to look like my happy. If your happy does look like my happy and you are missing that happy, try to remember that I spend a lot of moments sitting on the couch making to-do lists that never get done.

A lot can be said about my priorities too. Roman and Dillon first, school second, Chi Alpha third, and my house is waaaaay last. I end up the most upset about the way things look, which is ridiculous because it is last on my priority list, so obviously if I'm not getting around to it, I must be doing a kick-A job with stuff on the top of my priority list.

Perspective. 

Don't let your perception of others steal your joy. 

A moment spent in comparison is a moment wasted.

I can't think of another cliche to prove my point, so...

Go, live your real life and be proud of it!

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