I forgot that my alarm was set to go off every weekday, including Monday. The alarm respects neither man nor Labor Day. If you tell it to disrupt you every weekday, that is a job it will do with precision and relentlessness.
It didn’t matter though. I was already awake. Even after just a week or two, my body knows to stir after 5 am. It’s gross.
Fun weekend with my family – including Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at Tuacahn!
I got a lot of feedback about my boobs – thanks everyone for your kind and hilarious words! Yes the bump is showing, still looking kind of fat but those boobs!
I thought the panic might be due to the jarring tones of the alarm in the quiet of morning, my family sleeping in rooms around me, enjoying our warm and sunny St. George weekend. Surely it would subside and I’d be back asleep in no time.
I’m not sure what it is about vacations or spending time with family or the rush of back to school productivity that has the potential to remind you just how awful you are, but it does. And it did. 5 am seemed the perfect time for my brain and my heart to remember every little thing that’s terrible about me, all at once.
Now, like any person (maybe? Idk. Maybe just me) I’ve always got a few of these on the surface, driving me and reminding me that I need to do and be better. But only on a rare, precious occasion do I feel them all acutely. The wave crashes over me, a depressing round of scattergories that I both win and lose.
I began with the usual “yeah but I’ll try harder.” “I’ll be better. Really this time.” “Hey. We’re all figuring this out.” “Just think about The Office and be happy.” Then segued into prayer and a few Ensign articles, which usually does the trick. But those terrible Danica things kept flying around my brain like proverbial Snitches I’d never catch. Even my cute puppies pinboard wasn’t doing the trick.
“Well. Write them all down, stupid.” And a strange thing happened. As I started making this list in my brain, it became a drafted blog post that I hoped would show vulnerability and solidarity – “I’m often a b-word but don’t worry, guys, I know it and suffer for it even if I act all macho“; which then became a reminder to myself that things really are pretty good and to look at only the bad parts imperfection would be unfair to the great parts of imperfection.
For example.
-I suck at lipstick. My lips are always chapped and I look like a clown. I feel like that should be a normal thing a 24 year old woman who loves makeup should be able to do, but I just can’t.
+But I’m great with eye makeup including the oft-elusive liquid eyeliner. Usually, anyway. And that’s a victory!
-I’m really bad at training Glen Coco. I try for consistency and consequences but he’s still a barky doosh who poops in the house. After 2 YEARS. After 2 YEARS it’s obvious he isn’t the problem.
+But when that dog cuddles up to me to sleep or wags that crazy tail when I walk in the door it makes me feel like a million bucks.
-I’m not very neat and my house, car, desk, everything seems to always be a mess. Our place is super cute but you can’t tell with piles of clothes and mail and library books and laptops on every living space. I always make it a goal to keep the house more tidy – wipe the counters, take care of mail immediately, pack up my laptop and papers every night instead of leaving them out. Still working on that.
+But I absolutely love coming home. I love my cozy couch, my homework/planning/Pinterest station, the clothes on the floor that said I finally found the perfect outfit. My house is livable and welcoming. The space is mine and I feel so at home.
-I am bad at eating bananas when they’re ripe, cleaning out my fridge, using the groceries I buy.
+But I make good banana bread.
-I buy too much and can’t stop shopping.
+But I am quick to give to others, to donate, to ditch what I no longer need or use.
-I gossip and judge others constantly. So much. All the time. My soul is black with it.
+But I am a fiercely loyal friend, holding my relationships in high regard. I’ll hold grudges against the people who treat you poorly or break your heart for even longer than you will. I’ll come over with a cupcake whenever you need it. I’ll answer that call or text if you reach out to me – EVERY. TIME. Even if I maybe made fun of your Instagram that morning.
-I’m so awkward with kids and babies. They sense it and are repulsed by me. Everyone says it will be different with my own kid but I’m not so sure. I’m filled with paralyzing fear when I think about being alone with my baby for HOURS and DAYS and WEEKS and YEARS. I’ll be an uncoordinated, unconnected mother. I just know it.
+But I am great with teenagers. I love them. I understand them as many (most?) people don’t. I listen. I care. I make a difference for at least a few teens every year.
-I have somehow and separately lost both my temple bag and temple recommend. Haven’t been in months. Grown Mormon woman here.
+But my brain thinks about it. My consciousness always pulls up church to-dos along with everything else when I wake up each day, make a list each week, set goals each month. It’s in there. And that counts for something.
-My laundry is never done. My projects sit around unfinished – even some UNSTARTED. I burn out fast after making extensive lists of dreams and ideas and goals. Will I ever grow up and really start doing things?
+But I am quick to say yes to projects, chores, jobs. I WANT to do things. Sometimes I say yes to far too many things. Sometimes I don’t finish. Yes, I need to improve. But I am glad to be an open and energetic person.
We all suck. Right? I mean somehow that’s comforting that I’m not the only one who occasionally has a meltdown over how awful and non-improving I am. The Atonement makes it ok, eventually. Not yesterday. Not today, though I feel much better. But someday I’ll be ok with who I am and how I’m doing.
Remember that everyone feels this. Remember, Danica. Remember how you felt at 5 am on Labor Day. Remember how no one knew you were having a rough time, or that you really are trying to be better, or that you cried when no one would see. Remember that everyone feels that from time to time, and there’s no way of knowing – they’ll keep it secret just like you did. So take it easy on everyone.
Try a little harder to be a little better. – The Hinck
Ok. I will, Gordon. Miss you. And one day I’ll be a functional teacher/wife. And hopefully one day I can add mother to that. We’ll see if visiting teacher/primary teacher/physically fit adult ever makes the cut.
5 thoughts on “Everything Which Needs More Labor”
The hardest thing about this is that it doesn’t feel like everyone feels like that. Even though you tell yourself it over and over, it still feels like you are the only one. You’re not though, and all of those great parts about you make up a pretty kick-a person and friend. Plus, how annoying would it be to hang out with you if every one of those points were a positive? Heaven knows I need to hang out with people who purposefully put off laundry and showering and responsibilities.
Also – the whole kid thing? it’ll feel awkward at first. It wasn’t (at least for me) this immediate bonding and magical feeling when you hold your baby. It’s weird. And sitting there in the hospital bed in the middle of the night snuggling an adorable little bundle is cute, but strange in every sense. That baby doesn’t feel like yours and it takes a while to be able to call him or her YOUR KID. Its cool though, because since you are with them 24/7, day by day you both get to know each other more and more, and you develop this rhythm together. And then before you know it you can’t picture life without them or without knowing someone so well. You know all these little tips and tricks that apply to only your baby, and you realize you are the MOM – and no one will ever “get it” more than you do. I promise it’ll be different with your own kid, just allow it to have some time to get to that point.
Okay I can totally relate to this! I love that you thought of positive things too though, dwelling on the negative only is really a downward spiral. In relief society once the teacher gave a lesson and said something I loved and hope I’ll always remember–she said that negative thoughts often come two ways: Satan usually either tells us that we are much better than other people, or much worse than other people. And I completely agree! It’s those opposites, man. Feeling prideful and feeling inadequate coexist so often, and making it to a middle ground is a good goal. I feel like this post is a very balanced middle ground!
Also don’t be creeped out that I’m a reader…I sort of knew Brooke in high school and found you through a post of hers on Facebook…and I’ve been following along because I think you’re sassy and I like it! And I agree with your pregnancy opinions on everything 100%, so, validation.
So, yesterday I was crying to T.J. about motherhood and how I feel like a terrible mom recently. Then, up popped a notification on my phone from YOU commenting on a video saying something along the lines of me being a great mom. I know it seems silly, but it was honestly an answer to a prayer. Why am I telling you this? Because it was a simple reminder to me that God answers our prayers through many ways and really cares about all of our little things in life. Your comment helped me in a moment of insecurity so I hope you’ll feel comfort soon too in these things you’re worrying about. Miss you, love you, and when all else fails… just watch The Office because that always helps.
Can I just tell you that I loved this post? It always makes me feel better when people put their struggles out there. What you said at the end is true–we’ve all felt it, some of us more often than others. I love that you put the pro for every con, because people are not ever all bad or all good. And I love the way it was written–the beginning was powerful.
Thanks, by the way, for commenting on my blog, too. Hopefully your noticing my habit didn’t result in minus points for me. haha. It is true that people are constantly making assessments of us, usually it’s not even a choice; it’s just automatic. I try not to be somebody who has a lot of things hidden in her closet; I let it hang out to an extent. I figure by posting a Starbucks picture on Instagram that some people will raise an eyebrow. But the struggle is real. And I think we probably judge ourselves more harshly than others do, anyway, as illustrated by your post.
Once again, I loved this. You are great.
Oh also, I am super awkward with babies and kids too. I didn’t used to be. It has gotten bad in the past decade. You’re not at all alone in that concern.