No one likes to feel like a failure. To admit their struggles and weaknesses. Perhaps we're afraid of judgment or alienation. So to compensate we cover-up the blemishes and polish the harsh details for the highlight reel of our best moments. But in so doing deprive ourselves and others the chance to learn and grow from what we all experience — imperfection.
Happiness has become an abandoned house. Once alive, once full of warmth and activity. Over time, piece by piece, things move away from it until there are only bones and echoes. And I've done it myself, I've watched time come in and take things and done nothing. It's time to rebuild.
There's the Law of Thermodynamics, Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation even Murphy's Law, but over the last 11 years I've learned that there are intrinstic and unavoidable laws governing the parental universe. Laws which by merely defining them, make them obsolete; like trying to see yourself in the mirror with your eyes closed. They are elusive and wholly disparaging, but knowing, as they say, is half the battle.
The fact that I have to check the toilets more than once a day for clogs is somewhat disconcerting. But only somewhat. And that is something I never thought of when I envisioned parenthood that decade or so ago when I knew it was on the cusp of being a reality. Parenting is (sometimes) the worst thing ever.
Honesty might be the "best policy" but it's one of those things that most us are horrible at practicing. Horrible. We tend to shirk the truth of how we are, or even who we are, for bland safety. In the end we only hurt ourselves by hiding the truth.