What I’m good at

I think in order to recognize your strengths, you must be able to also recognize your weaknesses.  Because how do you know what you’re good at if you don’t know what you’re bad at?  You can’t be good at everything.  And that’s a fact.  Look it up.

Me?  I’m good at sarcasm.  Written sarcasm, mostly, because in person I’m often too dry and the humour gets lost and I’m left just seeming cold and cruel.  Which is true on occasion, but sometimes I mean to be funny and I end up being insulting.  I suppose it’s like having this really great script being performed by a really crappy actor.

I’m an ok baker, given a good recipe.  I’m also pretty good at remembering song lyrics.  And I am fairly talented at memorizing celebrity gossip, past and present, if you can call that a talent.

I used to be a good softball player.  I also used to be a half decent art student in high school.  I also used to be patient, but two kids have eaten most of that up.  I won’t name names.  Oh, and I used to have washboard abs, but those same children made quick work of those.

I am not good at getting the girls ready quickly in the morning.  Two hour minimum.  And if it’s bath day?  Make that three.  And that’s not even counting the days I choose to present myself to the world cleanly. Which is much less frequently than I used to.

I am not good at playing dolls.  I love dressing them and re-dressing them, but the roll playing bit?  That’s the reason we had Avery.  She can hurry up and get big enough to play the endless “Hi, whatchoo doin’ today?” game because it’s the same thing over and over and “I’m going to a castle to dance” and it makes me want to jump out the window.  Even if the window is three feet off the ground.  It’s the thought that counts.

I’m not good at expressing my feelings.  Strike that.  I’m not good at having feelings.  Anonymous Husband calls me a Vulcan.  Not much makes me laugh out loud, which is why he says this.  I prefer to laugh on the inside.  I am, however, very good at being angry, so I’m not completely void of emotion.

I’m so not good at video games.  No excuses.  I just suck.  We just got a Wii, which is the first video console that holds any sort of appeal to me since Nintendo 64 came out in, what?  1968?  It’s been a while.  And while playing the Wii is fun, I’m very, very, very not good.

But the thing I am most good at is also the thing I’m most proud of.  Being a mother.  My kids may not be the cleanest (see: THREE HOURS TO BATHE, read: HAPPENS EVERY OTHER DAY IF THEY STINK) or the most polite (we’ve been working on please and thank you for a year and a half with Eirinn and she still needs to be reminded) or the most cultured (we watch tv a lot.  Like a lot, a lot).  But they are beautiful and healthy and extremely intelligent and talented and loving.  And I’d like to think that they got to be that way because of the decisions AH and I have made, along with all their grandparents and aunts and uncles.

So, while there are a lot of things I’m not good at, this one thing, this most important thing, is what I’m best at.  And I’d rather have this than anything else.

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