I Rock

Sometimes I find myself wandering around the internet – checking out blogs, looking at people’s pins, reading tweets – and I find myself feeling inadequate. Because I can’t do what she does. Or I don’t look as pretty as she does. Or I’m not as talented as she is. Today that happened. I was fiddling around with some things for Eva’s first year photo book and birthday party and I flipped. I had an idea in my head but I could not seem to figure out how to execute said idea. So, instead of being rational and taking a breath, trying again, or perhaps asking for help. I just quit. I deleted what I had been working on and quit. Because I couldn’t do it. Sure, what I was trying to do may have been easy for you or you or you. But it wasn’t easy for me and that made me feel like crap and made me feel jealous of people who are “better” than me.

But, after getting my booty smacked by a few good friends and an unexpected, encouraging text from my hubby telling me how good the cobbler I baked last night was – I realized it’s time to turn this around. Who cares if I’m not good at x,y or z? God gave me talents, skills and abilities. Some of them I appreciate but unfortunately, many of them I don’t.

I wish I was athletic. I wish I could sing. I wish I was more artistic and creative. I wish I was more talented on the computer. I wish, I wish, I wish. But enough wishing. It’s time to stop. Because? I rock.

I rock at cooking. I feed my family good meals most nights of the week. Sometimes we get take out. Sometimes I make chicken fingers. But mostly? We eat good, homemade meals.

I rock at baking. I can make a mean apple pie. My pastry is probably better than anything you’ve ever tasted in your life. My brownies? You’ll die if you eat them. My husband makes sure to keep this talent of mine well-tuned.

I rock at organization and efficiency. I thrive on to-do lists. I think about what needs to be done on any given day and I do it.

I rock at memorization. I have the world’s most ridiculous memory. I can remember bizarre details about events – such as the clothes someone was wearing, the food we were eating or the exact words of a conversation. Sometimes my husband wishes I didn’t have this kind of memory, but it serves me well.

I rock at research and learning. I exceled in my undergrad and graduate programs.Sometimes I forget it, but I am a well-educated woman with a Masters degree in a research field. I have two completed theses under my belt. 

I rock at keeping my house. It may not be absolutely spotless at all times, but it’s tidy, it’s comfortable and it’s our home.

I rock at making my bed every single morning.

I rock at changing cloth diapers. I can get that girl’s diaper off, booty wiped, new dipe on, cover on, clothes back on, diaper rinsed and in the diaper pail faster than you can say POOP.

I rock at singing The Little Birdie song, doing stinky feet and playing with the shape sorter.

I rock at being Eva’s mom.

So, there. I said it. I rock. I may not rock in all the ways I wish I could but I rock in the ways God intended me to. And that’s what matters.

So, come on. Spill it.

What do you rock at?