I’m co-hosting a baby shower tonight at a friend’s house. In the planning, I offered to create a hand made paper garland and bake a dessert, in addition to collecting up other various supplies and running errands for the event.
What was I thinking?
I didn’t create hand made paper garlands or bake desserts even when I wasn’t working! If you’ve been to my house you know I barely push a broom, much less get all Martha Stewarty.
Yet for some reason I feel this pressure to perform as a mother, to just make it work – as if Tim Gunn checks in on me every hour to see how the hem of my life is coming along.
(It’s fraying, Tim! Absolutely FRAYING.)
Last night I sent my friend a frantic email announcing I would instead be bringing store-bought streamers and dessert. As a fellow over-achiever, she completely understood.
Can admitting failure actually be a big WIN?