Have you ever noticed that we are all more keenly aware of our own imperfections than anyone else is?
A friend and her son recently came over for a play date and remarked how clean my house was. She jokingly asked Noah if he was sure he actually lived here because she was certain it was way too tidy to be the home of a toddler.
My house, clean? I was keenly aware of the breakfast dishes in the sink, the layer of grime on the refrigerator shelves, the rust ring in the bathtub, and how well my tile floor hides dirt.
On Saturday I went to my childhood best friend's engagement party. Several people commented on how good I looked for just having a baby two and a half months ago. A single gal told me I must share my slim-down secrets with her if she ever has a child.
My body, slim? I was keenly aware how the waistband of the only nice pair of pants I could squeeze into was digging into my soft tummy each time I exhaled.
I entertained a new friend for lunch last week and she complimented me on how beautifully decorated my home was. She enjoyed the selection and placement of art and accessories in every room.
My home, decorated? I was keenly aware of the huge blank wall above the fireplace that has been begging for a canvas to cover it since we moved in over a year ago.
Perhaps it's time to transfer my keen awareness to something other than my imperfections. Maybe I should be more keenly aware of how blessed I am to have a home to weclome friends into and an abled body that has given birth to two precious boys.
Because, really, no one has a perfect home or a perfect body. (Except maybe a celebrity with a professional decorator, cleaning crew, personal trainer, and private chef. And even then, she is probably keenly aware of her imperfect marriage, unhealthy self image, and lack of hope.)
So here's to being keenly aware that perfection isn't as important as perspective!