insecurities

We all have them--right?

1. We're surrounded by adults who run marathons and 5-year-olds who ride bikes, swim, ski, play tennis, soccer, and baseball.
2. Outside of Utah, my husband's colleagues think our family is huge. But here, big families are a virtue and I don't know if I'm virtuous enough. I feel a kinship with mothers of four or fewer children, and oddly threatened (or something) by mothers of five or more (overachievers).
3. My house is not spotless. The shelves and drawers aren't organized. My neighbors' houses are clean and organized.
4. My neighbors are nicer than I am.

I was surprised when beautiful, talented, amazing, mother-of-five, friend said that growing up she never felt pretty enough, talented enough, smart enough, good enough. Growing up, outside of p.e., I felt plenty smart, talented, and pretty. It wasn't until I went to college that I started feeling average. But, then, what's wrong with average? And we should all experience being terrible at some things. I've thought that if I were to write children's books (not likely) I'd write one about a little girl who loves to dance at home, where she twirls and boogies, and her parents love her dancing. But when her mom signs her up for dance classes (evil mother), she doesn't like having to do what the teacher says, she's no longer the center of attention, and she wants to quit. The question is, how does the story end?

I love my neighbors. And on good days, I see their positive qualities and want to emulate them. But if I compare my weaknesses to their strengths, or even some of my strengths to theirs, I feel like a slacker. I could decide to surround myself with people who are less fit and accomplished than I, but instead I'll try to enjoy more, compare less, and remind myself to do things because they're worth doing, not because I'm trying to impress people.

home again

6:30 am Thursday we left behind London--the theatre, the parks, the museums, the markets, the bakeries, the mature cheddar, the rain, the 2 bedroom flat, the tube, the double-decker buses, the 1000-year-old castles and cathedrals--checked our 8 large pieces of luggage (having prepaid the $160 for our 2 extra--grrr), hauled our 12 carry-ons (including 1 pink and lavender unicorn pillow pet), and, 19 hours, 4 movies, 3 meals, and 2 snacks later, landed, exhausted, in Salt Lake at 6:30 pm the same day. Around 8 pm (3 am Friday, London time) we came home to friendly neighbors, a green yard, blooming flowers, a charming front porch, a clean house (we think someone came in and dusted), food in our fridge (thanks, amazing neighbors), Christmas mugs, flannel sheets, peppermint soap, weeds in the flower beds, a swampy garbage bag mouldering under the kitchen sink, four bedrooms, and more bathrooms than I care to admit. Feels as though we've never left. In a few hours we'll be calling friends, making appointments, unpacking rain jackets and sweaters, assessing our summer wardrobes, filling the pantry, and pulling up weeds.