I can take a hint
I've been working on my anxiety over the last few months (with the help of a therapist). Being detail oriented, being a planner, and loving organization is completely a gift from God. I have no doubt about that. In fact, through this whole year, I've been told that by Him and retold and retold. It IS MY GIFT. Stressing over doing those things perfectly is NOT from God. Being a perfectionist, being prideful about things, those are NOT from God. And you know where everything that is not from God comes from.
One of the things I did to help alleviate my perfectionist ways during this process was to purposely leave my office a GIANT mess while we had the house appraised. It was horrible. I was embarrassed and it shouted to me from across the house. The appraiser came with a camera and took pictures of the whole house, including that room! Ahhhh!!!! I reconsidered leaving it a mess over and over. Well, the house appraised far and away higher than I hoped, so my brain is already starting to be reprogrammed. The office a mess didn't matter. Wow. (Yes, I cleaned it the day after the appraiser came - I still enjoy things put away. Michael does too. Stressing over what someone else thinks about it is the bad part.)
So, with family coming in from out of town this July 4th weekend, I wanted to start planning a huge spread, major organizing and cleaning, and it would take approximately 8 weeks to get ready. ;-) This is not healthy. This is all consuming. I love, love planning. I love hosting. Like, my house is way bigger than a family of 3 needs because I want the parties at MY house. We have more bedrooms and bathrooms than people because I want people to come stay with me. I bought a house big enough for guests. I LOVE hosting. But I need to work on changing my guest-preparation routine. So, this visit I decided to not clean my house at all (well, maybe the bathrooms and clean sheets) so I wouldn't stress over the house getting dirty while company was here. Also, it wouldn't be an issue of pride. I'm not a better person because my house is cleaner. I'm not a worse person if it's not. Warning: This goes against everything I've ever known. I want my guests to be comfortable. I want to be comfortable too. I don't believe my guests would (and I know I wouldn't) be comfortable in filth. I also don't believe my company would enjoy tip toeing in a house they couldn't sit or relax or eat in. So, I am fighting it and deciding on doing what is dirty to me. Yes!
THEN, God said, that's nice, sweetie, but I can do better than that. Saturday night I slept on Kara's trundle bed for a fun sleepover with her. Sunday my back started getting really sore. Like, wow, this is the worst my back has ever felt before. Monday I was crying from the pain and stretching the sore muscle had me screaming. I had never felt pain like this before. Even labor wasn't really this bad. Well, maybe some of it was. (Thanks to my epidural, I never experienced more than a couple of contractions worth of intense pain.) I collected myself and talked to Michael about it, and he was really concerned. He's not super sympathetic, and he's definitely not a care taker, but he didn't like hearing about back problems. He said this weekend was the perfect time to rest my back since I could just relax with company. I said, no way! I have so much cooking and cleaning to do! He said, oh, no one cares about dirt and we can go pick up any food I can't cook. Now, Michael's orders are to rest and I must go to the doctor the very next day. Wow, who is this man?
So, the doctor says to keep things to a minimum and make everyone else help me. Ugh. I don't wanna ask for help.
God's pretty funny, isn't He? Now, I'm doing a super duper minimum preparation for company this weekend. My brain will see how beautifully it will go (Michael's family is very chill and are the perfect people to not worry about having to impress), and this will go a long way in changing my ways!
I will probably always have to fight this, and some things will be easier than others, but I'm working on it with God's help!
One of the things I did to help alleviate my perfectionist ways during this process was to purposely leave my office a GIANT mess while we had the house appraised. It was horrible. I was embarrassed and it shouted to me from across the house. The appraiser came with a camera and took pictures of the whole house, including that room! Ahhhh!!!! I reconsidered leaving it a mess over and over. Well, the house appraised far and away higher than I hoped, so my brain is already starting to be reprogrammed. The office a mess didn't matter. Wow. (Yes, I cleaned it the day after the appraiser came - I still enjoy things put away. Michael does too. Stressing over what someone else thinks about it is the bad part.)
So, with family coming in from out of town this July 4th weekend, I wanted to start planning a huge spread, major organizing and cleaning, and it would take approximately 8 weeks to get ready. ;-) This is not healthy. This is all consuming. I love, love planning. I love hosting. Like, my house is way bigger than a family of 3 needs because I want the parties at MY house. We have more bedrooms and bathrooms than people because I want people to come stay with me. I bought a house big enough for guests. I LOVE hosting. But I need to work on changing my guest-preparation routine. So, this visit I decided to not clean my house at all (well, maybe the bathrooms and clean sheets) so I wouldn't stress over the house getting dirty while company was here. Also, it wouldn't be an issue of pride. I'm not a better person because my house is cleaner. I'm not a worse person if it's not. Warning: This goes against everything I've ever known. I want my guests to be comfortable. I want to be comfortable too. I don't believe my guests would (and I know I wouldn't) be comfortable in filth. I also don't believe my company would enjoy tip toeing in a house they couldn't sit or relax or eat in. So, I am fighting it and deciding on doing what is dirty to me. Yes!
THEN, God said, that's nice, sweetie, but I can do better than that. Saturday night I slept on Kara's trundle bed for a fun sleepover with her. Sunday my back started getting really sore. Like, wow, this is the worst my back has ever felt before. Monday I was crying from the pain and stretching the sore muscle had me screaming. I had never felt pain like this before. Even labor wasn't really this bad. Well, maybe some of it was. (Thanks to my epidural, I never experienced more than a couple of contractions worth of intense pain.) I collected myself and talked to Michael about it, and he was really concerned. He's not super sympathetic, and he's definitely not a care taker, but he didn't like hearing about back problems. He said this weekend was the perfect time to rest my back since I could just relax with company. I said, no way! I have so much cooking and cleaning to do! He said, oh, no one cares about dirt and we can go pick up any food I can't cook. Now, Michael's orders are to rest and I must go to the doctor the very next day. Wow, who is this man?
So, the doctor says to keep things to a minimum and make everyone else help me. Ugh. I don't wanna ask for help.
God's pretty funny, isn't He? Now, I'm doing a super duper minimum preparation for company this weekend. My brain will see how beautifully it will go (Michael's family is very chill and are the perfect people to not worry about having to impress), and this will go a long way in changing my ways!
I will probably always have to fight this, and some things will be easier than others, but I'm working on it with God's help!
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