Another New Year, another chance to renew the elusive quest for perfection. Isn’t that what New Year’s resolutions are all about? This year I have decided to choose as my role model a great woman, worthy of emulation. I want to be like Mary Poppins — “practically perfect in every way.”
So, how can I achieve perfection?
Can I become the perfect gardener? That’s a laugh. I have assiduously avoided houseplants of every description — I am a legendary houseplant killer. I kill them with kindness, flooding them with water and rotting their roots from within. I used to dread Mothers’ Day, when the kids would bring home from school the marigolds they had lovingly nourished from seed, and present them to me as tokens of their love. Those poor plants would last for no more than a week before I would be forced to water them. A speedy demise would follow. What kind of a mother would destroy her child’s Mothers’ Day gift year after year?
No, I’ll never be the perfect gardener.
Can I be the perfect mother, now that the kids are older and no longer bring home marigolds for me to trample on? Doubtful. I’m sure to nag them about time spent on video games and point out the homework assignments looming over their heads. I can’t guarantee that I won’t yell at them, or say something embarrassing in front of their teachers.
At the end of the day, an occasional “good Mommy” is really all I can expect.
Maybe I can keep the perfect house. I’ve seen pictures of the perfect house, in glossy magazines at the checkout counter. All the furniture matches, the kitchen counters gleam and the clutter is relegated to a story on page 127 about how to organize one’s life. Somehow that story always references a storage system that requires empty walls or an unused under-the-stairs space big enough to be Harry Potter’s bedroom, and still have room for all seven books in the series. If I had that kind of unused space, of course I would fill it up with the clutter from my countertops! As it is, every horizontal surface in my house sports one or more piles that tend to spill over into unregulated chaos on a regular basis. Tidying up the house consists of tossing the piles into the “business box” to sort through later. At the present moment I have at least three “business boxes” waiting for Later to arrive.
No, I’ll never have the perfect house.
Maybe I can be the perfect cook, serving tasty, attractive and nutritious meals to my family, and coming through with potluck dishes and bake sale items that will wow the larger community. But then I’ll have to banish all salty snacks and bacon from my home, and learn to cook with kale and other nutritious but questionably tasty green vegetables.
I certainly won’t win the Perfect Mother vote from my children if I take such drastic measures.
Hmm, maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. Instead of perfection on a grand scale, maybe I should be looking for the smallest step to get me started. I can be practically perfect in just one way. Something small but meaningful, and which I can have control over and still feel like I am making a difference in the world.
I know! I can be the perfect box tops collector!
With one child already in college, I have finally seen the light when it comes to Box Tops for Education. All it took was a school-wide competition, and I am fully on board. Whenever I see one of those little badges on my cereal box or soup can label, I rush for the scissors. No box top escapes my notice. My pile of box tops grows daily in its dedicated spot in my kitchen junk drawer, safe from the piles of clutter or the dreaded business box.
I’m definitely on track to achieve perfection in box tops collecting.
Still, I realize that I might fall short. I might accidentally throw away a cracker box without checking it, and I’m certainly not going to canvass the neighbors or the recycling center for box tops. But I can live with that level of perfection.
Even Mary Poppins was only “practically perfect,” after all.
• Peggy McKee Barnhill is a wife, mother and aspiring author who lives in Juneau. She likes to look at the bright side of life.
