A Perfect Place for Imperfection

Posted on | April 28, 2014 | 4 Comments

Every so often, when you least expect it, you can stumble into something perfect.

The moments are few and far between for me. More often than not, I hype something up in my head to the point that when I actually find myself in the moment, it’s a raging disappointment. This has proven true for almost anything… people, places, events, you name it. But I think, maybe, that familiarity with disappointment makes me more appreciative of those tiny flecks of perfection… the dress that fits perfectly, the person who says the right thing, the book that ends just as you hope it will… the day that falls just right, the person who fits just perfectly into your life.

Yesterday was a perfect day.

If I could put a finger on my favorite attribute in a person, I think it would be their complete willingness to be a fool in public. I say this because, well, it’s true… and also because it’s what I realize I’ve been missing in my life. Ever since Banks wrapped himself around my world, I’ve realized how much of what I thought was living really wasn’t. Because I’ve always been a “public image” kind of girl. I like for people to see my best face… my best outfit… my best manners. I like for my child to wear the proper clothes and say the proper things. I just… like for things to be perfect, even when they fail to be. Even when my search for perfection always seems to leave me disappointed in life as it is… as it is meant to be. Imperfect.

In all my quests for perfection, what I didn’t realize I really LOVED, was to be silly. Because silly isn’t perfect, you know.

Or is it?

I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a goofball around the house. I act the fool at kids’ parties and often dance crazily in the car if I think no one is looking. But only if I think no one is looking. Because I’ve always been a bit insecure about who I am and what I’m doing. If I put on the perfect face, no one will notice the silly, right?

But Banks? Well, Banks is completely secure in who he is at all times. He doesn’t care if the president is watching… he will still throw up his hands and dance like no one is around. If J says “Let’s see who can make the silliest face!” in downtown Atlanta, on a busy street? Banks will jump right in with both feet and challenge the four year old for best face ever.

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And it makes me remember… he makes me remember… that the best parts of me are the ones that aren’t so carefully pressed and ironed. The best parts of me are the ones that fly unencumbered against the wind, wild and happy and carefree. Yesterday, we were wild and happy and carefree… all three of us… winding our way through downtown Atlanta with no plans, no worries, and no timetable. And it was perfect with every breath.

Perfect.

Just like I am, even when I’m silly… especially when I’m silly.

Perfect.

Just like my child when he dresses himself in a backwards t-shirt and shoes on the wrong feet.

Perfect.

Just like my life now, warmly mismatched, crazy and off-balanced, sweetly off-key and brilliantly wild.

Perfect because of how well I am loved and how well I love… perfect because the person I least expected has been and is the person I most needed. I guess, maybe, by stopping looking for something or someone perfect… perfection found me.

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  • http://unintentionallybrilliant.blogspot.com Roxanne Piskel

    Perfectly imperfect. :) XO

    • Law Momma

      Precisely. :)

  • http://www.ninjapanza.com NinjaPanza

    I too have that annoying habit of setting an impossible standard for how moments are “supposed” to go, and then feeling the disappointment. I used to blame myself for failing to plan it perfectly… but it’s my child that’s teaching me the best moments are the ones you didn’t plan for!

    • Law Momma

      Yeah… kids will do that too, won’t they!?

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at http://www.law-momma.com.



  • I'm a divorced, single mom to a pre-schooler, a full-time attorney, and a semi-reluctant vegetarian. I work hard and when given the chance, I play hard... but I'm almost never given the chance.

    It's possible that I never outgrew 7th grade mentality, as I still laugh when anyone says anything that can be remotely construed as sexual. Let's face it, if you're not down with "That's what s/he said" at the end of almost any sentence, we're probably not going to get along all that well.

    I drink more than I should, I run more than I should, and I laugh as much as I can. So I'm pretty much winning at life.

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