Thank god it’s only 30%
Years ago, my therapist introduced me to the idea of “good enough parenting.” It sounded trite and a bit too GenX to be serious but I trust my therapist—she’s the person I want to be when I grow up. So I listened, filed the idea away in my overcrowded postpartum brain, and today it reappeared and saved my hiney (I was a stressed out, snappy witch this morning and made everyone around me miserable. Then I beat myself up about it for two hours after my family departed for the day. Turns out, that doesn’t help).
I’m a hopeless perfectionist. And sometimes I love people to my detriment. So, when I became a mother ten years and three days ago, my over-achiever traits were turned up to 11. I loved this tiny creature with everything I am and there is nothing I won’t do to make his life perfect. Except of course I can’t do that. We are all born into an imperfect world. We make mistakes, I make mistakes, all day long. I do things I regret for five minutes and things I will regret for my lifetime. But I can repair some of them by admitting I don’t know everything, that I need clarity, that I am sorry for effing up, and that I can be—quite frequently am—wrong. (I didn’t come up with that, it comes from the brilliant Louise Penny, my 2nd favorite author of all time).
Turns out these words from Penny’s fictional Armand Gamache (somehow he is fictional, how is a character this brilliant not flesh and blood) are the PERFECT single piece of parenting advice I’ve ever received. Dr. Dan Seigel’s concept of Good Enough Parenting communicates to our children that WE are human, THEY are human, and that our love for them is bigger than any mistake any of us could ever make. Also? We only have to get it right 30% of the time to raise a well-adjusted kid. WHAT?!?! says my Type A brain?
But really—how simple and perfect is that? How much calmer would our adult relationships be if we approached them with this framework? Even the drivers around me at rush hour in that horrid corridor between Ballard and SE Greenlake would have a better chance at not getting yelled at by me if I drove with this wisdom on the wheel instead of my trigger-ready middle finger. Oh well. One more thing I can repair for my son today. Practice, not perfection. Happy good enough-ing. It works. Love.