Perfectly Imperfect

Taylor Belle and I had a girl’s night the other night. We did a little shopping and then stopped at a restaurant for dinner. It was a nice night of a little mama-daughter time.

We were driving home after dinner, and I messed up and said something that I shouldn’t have. Without even thinking, I said the word “shit”. Now I know that it’s not the worst curse word a mama could say if curse words were ranked, but you should have seen Taylor’s face. She was surprised. Very surprised. Cussing is not allowed in our home. It’s one of our rules. She knows that.

And then Taylor Belle said something that surprised me as well. She said, “so you’re not perfect after all”.

Wait a minute. What? Who ever said that I was perfect? Who even said that I thought I was perfect? Or even close to it? The only thing that I’m perfect at is being perfectly imperfect. If that even makes sense. How could Taylor even think that I thought that about myself?

I’m sure that Taylor immediately regretted making that statement. Those of you who know me would know that I couldn’t just let something like that go. I simply couldn’t do it. It wasn’t within my power.

I know that I have told Taylor this before. But I felt compelled to say it again. There is not a mistake that she could even think about making that I haven’t already made. Not one. And even being an old mama like I am doesn’t seem to help. I am still making mistakes. It seems sometimes to be the only way that I can learn. Which can suck, but at least something good comes from it. Or at least usually.

Joely Richardson is credited with the quote “You grow up by making mistakes. I’ve made a ton of them, but as long as I keep on failing better, I don’t mind”. I like that quote, and would like to think that I keep on failing better. Shit. At the end of the day, it could always be worse. At least no one has died.