The contractors are moving so fast now. All the hard stuff is done so here’s what happened in the past few days…
- Framing out the new bathroom
- Finishing the subfloor
- Putting up drywall
Next week we’ll be framing the new pantry, installing cabinets, widening the doorway between the new kitchen and the dining room, opening a passthrough in the same wall, and picking out all the bathroom stuff (sink, shower, toilet, flooring). The pictures coming up will be fun ones!
Now for the rest of the post…
I realized this past week that I’m always most successful at connecting with people when I’m talking about the ways in which I have failed. Failed at friendships, marriage, parenting. Failed in jobs, at logic, or in social graces. Failed at being good at even the things that I’m known for being good at.
I wish that weren’t true. I’d be much more proud to connect so often over successes, but when I imagine that conversation it just feels icky: “You’ll never guess what happened! I got promoted to senior editor, nominated for best artist, and won the PTO bakeoff all in one day! And my husband said because of me he’s the happiest he’s been in years. Isn’t that crazy?! How was YOUR day?”
It’s possible that it’s just the circles I run in, but the world seems to be a pretty broken place, and that world includes me. I’d always like to say the loving thing to my husband. I’d like to have hair that just perfectly cascades. I’d like to host every open mic night with precise pacing and delivery. But the truth is, I have a much greater impact on the world when I feel the need to apologize, when I feel ugly, when I feel embarrassed…and live to tell the tale.
Sure it’s not fun, failing. It wasn’t fun being unpopular in high school. I definitely didn’t enjoy accruing the student debt of two degrees only to realize that I DON’T have a knack for teaching. And don’t even get me started on the Mommy guilt that built up as my kid refused to sleep for 3 years. These things might get resolved in 2 hours on the big screen, but in real life they leave scars.
Fooled you though because scars are cool. You thought I was going to say scars are bad. And maybe they are if you plan to be the perfect sort. But, obvious and slow to fade, scars are the bearers of good tidings to those who hurt in secret. Scars let others know that you’ve been there too. And we all need to know that we’re not alone.
So try as I may to have it all together, to be a great parent, a great graphic designer, a great leader, a great daughter, a great housemate, a great creation, etc., it’s probably better that I don’t always succeed. And I genuinely hope God hears me when I say, ” I don’t want any more failure…but when it comes, thanks.”