I am a perfectionist for a lot of things and am learning how to let that go to a healthy level. One where my bed is always made, laundry and dishes done, lunches made, apartment tidied at night. But not necessarily one where my files are in order, photos organized, and clothes ironed.
There are times being a perfectionist comes in handy and times when it doesn’t. I’m still trying to figure out how to contain it, and sometimes I’m too tired to even think about it – which helps to contain it lately.
I do know that there is no “perfect” anything – except the sight of my little boy sleeping in his crib, making small snoring noises and holding Elmo.