The World’s Worst Superhero

This morning, as I was driving back to the house from the grocery store, to retrieve the list that I only realized I had forgotten as I was walking into said grocery store, after finding the only parking spot in the parking lot, I was reminded of something a new friend said to me recently. She said, and I quote,

“I read your blog before I met you and I thought you were this perfect mom and designer, who has it all together, and I thought ‘She would never be friends with someone like me’.”

I also had another friend tell me he had thought I was the organized and efficient one (between me and my husband) and he was shocked to discover that he had us backwards. I asked him what would give him such a silly notion, and he replied, “Well, I read your blog before I really knew you.”

Apparently, I’ve been misleading all of you, so I thought I should take a few moments to point out some realities that may not usually show up here on the blog.

This falls under the category of “Don’t compare your outtakes to someone else’s highlight reel.” (I don’t know who said that, but I think it really applies to the world of blogging, where we put our best projects on display, and don’t tell you about how we snapped at our kids while we were trying to finish that project, or how we had to try it 3 different ways before getting it right, as I did with my last project, the No-Sew Bunk Bed Tent.

Those of you who know me already will likely know these things about me (thanks for being my friend anyway!) and those of you who don’t already know me should be warned of what you’re getting into. So here it is – my confession. My list of reasons you may not want me as a friend. Or at the very least, a good warning label for the whole blog…

Why I would be the world’s worst superhero:

• I am completely unorganized. All those organizing tips I throw out in the blog? A desperate attempt to create some order and predictability in my life, if for no other reason than for the sanity and well-being of my kids and hubby.
• Closely related, but deserving of its own category…I cannot make or keep a schedule. If I had a nickel for every time my husband told me a schedule would make things would be easier for me and the kids (and I suspect he’s too tactful to include himself too), I’d be rich. If I could remember where I put all those nickels.
• I’m terrible at follow-through. If I were a superhero, you can bet my cape would often be wadded up in a moldy heap in the dryer because I washed it and forgot to turn on the dryer. Or forgot to take it out when it was done. Or forgot to wash it in the first place.
• I love my kids, but I’m pretty sure I’m not a great mom. Someday their therapy bills will reflect this truth. In the meantime, I try not to inflict too many of my own insecurities and prejudices upon them, but am reminded daily of my failure in this endeavor. I claim the small victories, like when they appreciate the dinner I made them (even though it came from a box, with no mention of the words “organic” or “low-fat” anywhere on it) or when they get to bed on time (even though I forgot to check whether my daughter turned off her light, only to find her still reading at 11 p.m. when I’m heading to bed).
• Ditto for my husband. He’d probably like to see more of my face, instead of my back sitting at my computer, telling stories about him and the kids. At least I married well. Not only does he put up with me, but he actually seems to kind of enjoy being with me. That’s probably a better endorsement of his character than mine.
• Superheros sacrifice themselves for the greater good. My idea of the greater good is a larger cup of coffee and a bigger cookie to go with it. Do I get points for sacrificing my diet?
• I am lazy. My doctor recently told me I should take a little break from strenuous cardio exercise and I almost hugged him. Instead I feigned disappointment and said something silly like “I’ll just take up pilates.” Today, with the best of intentions, I put on my yoga pants (which provided the added benefit of not having to wear real pants) and drove to the gym, but decided to go out for coffee and scones instead because the parking lot looked kind of full.
• I’m only kind of good at all the things that I do. Art, design, DIY projects, running a business. I’m really good at being just good enough to get things done, but not really good enough to change the world. If I were a superhero, my superpower would probably be mediocrity. I bet I could be pretty good at some things, if it weren’t for my point mentioned directly above.
• I’m not even a good writer, although I hope you’re occasionally entertained. I mean, have you been counting the run-on and fragment sentences in this post alone? I hope not!
• Oh wait, there is one thing I’m really good at. Procrastination. My husband says I’ve elevated it to an art form. Someday maybe I’ll write a book about how to procrastinate effectively. If I ever get around to it.
• And finally, I have lots of ideas, but usually can’t keep a thought in my head for long enough to do much about it. I don’t know if it’s ADD or early-onset-dementia, but my memory seems to be worse than ever. Like most things, I blame it on the children. I’m pretty sure I had a good memory before them, but then, how would I know?

So if you’re thinking of being my friend, but are intimidated by my apparent awesomeness, fear no more. You are probably twice the woman I’ll ever be and I’d be improving my station in life if you allowed yourself to be seen with me. If you’re thinking of hiring me for a design job, I’d think again if I were you. But on the plus side, I may completely forget to bill you for the job, so maybe it’s not such a bad gig for you.

At the very least, don’t make the mistake of reading this blog and thinking that I am somehow more with-it than I really am. I’m no superhero, but I do occasionally have a flash of inspiration. Now, if I can just sit still long enough to capture it here, then thanks for reading it. And as always, I’ll tell you what I tell my kids: do as I say, not as I do!

Sidenote: my friend who I quoted at the top of this post is an incredibly sweet, loving, generous, and all-around fabulous person, and I’ve often thought the same of her, “Why would she want to be friends with me?” I guess it just goes to show that we all have a bit of insecurity and the tendency to think others have more than we have. I bet even Superman thought he’d never stand a chance with Lois. Maybe life would be better if we just tried being friends more, and worrying less about what others think? Just an idea…maybe my best one yet.