I used to think that “doing my best” meant aiming for perfection. I am learning that my best will vary highly, depending on my circumstances, and that whatever I am able to give is good enough. Even if I can barely do anything, it’ll be good enough. For me, anyways. I need to balance what I achieve for others, with what I do for myself. These past few days, I have been giving a lot of myself, mainly to my sick children, with very little, if anything, left over for me.
I still notice voices in my head telling me it’s not enough. I’m running around getting my kids to see doctors, pick up their medicine, give them hugs, make them meals, help them get to sleep, and somehow it’s still not enough. Why? Because we haven’t been relaxing and watching Christmas movies. Because I forgot to make latkes for Hanukah. Because I somehow always find a way to prove that I am lacking, when it comes to my children. But I need to remind myself that it’s enough. That I’m enough.
But then I started thinking (because what good would these voices be if they couldn’t find something else to pick apart?) that I am not doing enough for me. All I’ve wanted these past few days is a moment to relax and I haven’t taken it. Again, I need to remind myself, I need to know, I need to hear, that what I am doing is good enough.