Not Being Perfect

Garden Woes
First off, here's a note to myself:  Remember, in January 2012, that nothing's wrong.  You're just missing your garden.  I give you permission to buy a new house plant or bulb, if needed.

That's exactly what Rob and I did yesterday:  planted things.  I have 13 amaryllis bulbs, which is a ridiculous number of bulbs.  We decided that this year, as soon as a flower spike starts showing, we're going to give 7 of them away.  If you'd like to have own an amaryllis, or if you'd just like to have it in your house when it blooms this year, let me know.

Also, I bought a new house plant.  The people at the nursery said, "Sounds like you already have quite a few house plants."  Yes, but there can't ever be too many, can there?  ...  I have a garden addiction.  It's a problem.

Not Being Perfect
Let's be honest, I have issues.  I guess we all do, but I've always been more than ready to accept the idea that I have more than my fair share of them.  In fact, usually, it probably wouldn't take much to convince me that I'm literally going insane.

While I was at book group this week, we started talking about journals and blogs, and writing about our kids and our lives.  About the fear of our children eventually reading them, and realizing that we weren't perfect or great or even just what they THOUGHT we were.

I thought it was kinda funny, because that's actually why I write.  I want my kids to know that I'm just a person trying to figure things out, like they are.  And I'm not even CLOSE to perfect.  My kids won't ever have that illusion.

Not being perfect, actually, is what keeps me going.  There's too much pressure when you're perfect.  Hurray for imperfection!

(Probably, when I make it to the other side, God is going to say to me, "You could have tried a little harder, you know."  And I'll shrug my shoulders, like I do, say a pathetic, "I'm sorry," and then I'll go hang out for eternity with the slackers.  I'm okay with that outcome.)

Signing
Have I ever mentioned that I love Sign Language?  Love it.  I took my last ASL class in 2001, and then spent a decade slowly getting more and more out of practice.  By the time July came, and a deaf couple showed up to church, I hadn't even thought about ASL for years.  I could barely ask them how old their kids were.

It turns out, though, that consciously thinking about something is helpful.  My sign has returned fairly quickly, my technique is better, my speed has increased.  It's great.

It's been super helpful, because I've had a ton of opportunities to use my sign language skills (well, "skills" is used loosely here) in recent months.  It's strange to me that I've had zero opportunities for years and years, and now, suddenly, I've have a string of chances.  2 other deaf people have showed up to church and I've been able to interpret for them.  Granted, it's been nearly disastrous, but they appreciate the effort, and I'm learning a lot.

Though I think it's really funny that I started signing again and then within 2 weeks broke my arm.  Figures, right?

And for those of you who think that my sign is really good when you're watching me at church, it's only because you don't know what I'm saying.  Or not saying, really.  Today Charles and I had an entire conversation, while the talks were going on, about one of my signs being wrong.  He was really nice about it:  "You can sign it wrong, that's fine with me.  I don't want to offend you."  I wanted to laugh.  No, I should just sign it right.  ...  And wanna know what sign it was?  A really hard one, you'd expect.  It was the word "us."  That's how amazing I am.