Perfection Pending

By Meredith Ethington

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Even the Armpit Can Be Beautiful.

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I really love my house. I don’t own it. I rent it. But, I love it just the same. It was built in 1926. It is charming. Arched doorways, and built in shelves, and it’s even called a “bungalow”. Sounds fancy, right? I have a stained glass window on my front door. It’s just plain cute. You can see here how it looked before we had fully moved in strewn our crap all over the house. Sure, it could use some repairs here and there (actually everywhere), but I really do love it.

Yet, like all good things, it has an armpit. Have you ever heard the saying, “This city is the armpit of Texas” or whatever?

The armpit of my house is my basement. It’s just not cozy. It doesn’t scream, “Come relax here”. It is the hiding place for stuff that doesn’t have a home. It houses many of the toys that are overflowing from the kids rooms. We hang out in here too much, considering it’s the armpit and all. It has bad track lighting. There are usually crumbs on the floor because I don’t want to haul the vacuum downstairs that often. The kids like to watch movies and play the xbox down there and that usually involves eating snacks. Which involves spreading crumbs into every nook and cranny of the couch. They have a playroom, but it’s always a disaster. It is far from organized. The armpit is where the old couch we inherited from my in-laws sits, the mis-matched furniture, and the giant tube television that took 4 men to move down to said armpit resides. It’s just not that inviting. And like most armpits, it can be smelly at times. It’s where the cat lives too. Don’t you want to come over right now and stay there?!! It has a guest room.

I’m probably making it sound way worse than it actually is. Here’s one pic that gives you some sort of idea.

But it has one redeeming quality. It’s where my computer sits. It’s where I write. It’s where beautiful thoughts can happen.

I knew I loved writing in high school when papers were the easiest assignments for me. I could whip those suckers out like nothing and I almost always got an A. And, when I started blogging in 2007, it was a fun past time. But, in the past 3 years, my love of writing has grown into something I never could have imagined. I started dreaming about becoming a real writer.

So, I switched my family blog to something a little more public a few months ago and joined wordpress with no real intention except to write about whatever I wanted in the hopes that someone might read it. It’s been a fun journey, and it’s one I hope to keep doing for as long as possible. Yet, there have been misunderstandings, and struggles that have come with my blog being made public. I’ve worked through some of those, and my resolve to keep writing has continued even when I wanted to give up. I questioned whether or not putting myself out there in this way was worth it. Deep inside me, I couldn’t stop. Even though I wanted to because I felt like no one “got it”, except my wonderful followers that were fellow bloggers and a select few friends and family.

This morning, I ran across this quote:

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Photo credit given to FB where I saw it. Can’t do any better than that!

I have been criticized and misunderstood. But I could not stop. I even wrote a post saying I was going to take a week off and couldn’t do it. There is something that has been born inside me that I can’t make go away. I feel compelled, and that’s the best I can describe it. And, writing has done so much for me. It has made me look at seemingly small encounters in my life with both my children and others in a more profound, meaningful way. Sure, I can get snarky. I can definitely be sarcastic. I can complain. But, the best part about writing? I can be my whole self. No matter what I’m feeling that day.

And, lo and behold, this morning, I was freshly pressed for a post I wrote yesterday. I never thought that would happen. And, I practically screamed when I read the email last night and my husband was proud because he supports me even when he doesn’t fully understand it. When I sat down in my little armpit in my house during nap time yesterday afternoon, I honestly didn’t know what I was going to write, but then I remembered the woman in the grocery store, and what that encounter made me think and feel, and it just flowed out of me in minutes. For some reason that I can’t see now, I was meant to write. Even if it’s just on this little ole’ mommy blog of mine.

So, I love my armpit of a basement. Because out of it, comes some of the most beautiful things.


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Comments

  1. donofalltrades says

    April 30, 2013 at 2:41 pm

    As long as your husband supports you, then this blogging is a no brainer. Stick with it, I enjoy all the complaining. Your basement isn’t near as bad as I was expecting. Old South St. Louis houses are called bungalows and nearly all the basements are a disaster. One of my old favorite bars is called the Bungalow in fact. It’s a firefighter bar now so phoeeey to it!

    Reply
    • fakingpictureperfect says

      April 30, 2013 at 2:53 pm

      ha! Well, there are some really scary bungalows around here. All of these houses in my neighborhood are 100 years old or so. I have seen them. But, I just like the word for some reason…sounds cozy.

      Reply
  2. Ashley Austrew says

    April 30, 2013 at 2:48 pm

    Ahh, the armpit. I have a desk shoved into the corner of my bedroom. I write and sew there. Anywhere you can make it work, right? Congrats on being FPed! You very much deserve it 🙂

    Reply
    • fakingpictureperfect says

      April 30, 2013 at 2:51 pm

      Ha! Thank you. Yeah, I’m sure everyone has some sort of armpit in their house, right? I wish I had a laptop, but then I would probably really neglect my children, so it’s probably a good thing I don’t!

      Reply
  3. Amber Perea says

    April 30, 2013 at 3:53 pm

    Congrats on being Freshly Pressed, love! You deserve it!

    Reply
    • fakingpictureperfect says

      April 30, 2013 at 4:00 pm

      Thank you!

      Reply
  4. mkstump says

    April 30, 2013 at 4:39 pm

    Go you! I love reading your blog. Your writing voice is so strong and you were obviously meant to share your words with others! Bravo!

    Reply
  5. Michelle says

    April 30, 2013 at 4:47 pm

    I’m so happy for you!!! But, what does freshly pressed mean??? Yes, I know….I’m clueless:) But either way, congrats!!!

    Reply
    • fakingpictureperfect says

      April 30, 2013 at 4:50 pm

      It just means the WordPress people highlighted my post on the freshly pressed tab (found in your reader) and more people will mosey on over and check out your post!

      Reply
  6. monk-monk says

    May 1, 2013 at 10:28 am

    Two thoughts, by my favorite author Anne Lamott:

    1. You are lucky to be one of those people who wishes to build sand castles with words, who is willing to create a place where your imagination can wander. We build this place with the sand of memories; these castles are our memories and inventiveness made tangible. So part of us believes that when the tide starts coming in, we won’t really have lost anything, because actually only a symbol of it was there in the sand. Another part of us thinks we’ll figure out a way to divert the ocean. This is what separates artists from ordinary people: the belief, deep in our hearts, that if we build our castles well enough, somehow the ocean won’t wash them away. I think this is a wonderful kind of person to be.”
    ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

    2. “Remember that you own what happened to you. If your childhood was less than ideal, you may have been raised thinking that if you told the truth about what really went on in your family, a long bony white finger would emerge from a cloud and point to you, while a chilling voice thundered, “We *told* you not to tell.” But that was then. Just put down on paper everything you can remember now about your parents and siblings and relatives and neighbors, and we will deal with libel later on.”
    ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

    Reply
    • fakingpictureperfect says

      May 1, 2013 at 10:32 am

      Love both of those!!! Beautiful words.

      Reply

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Welcome! I’m Meredith.

Mom. Writer. Diet Coke connoisseur. Born and raised Texan. Lover of real talk and laughter with a hint of sarcasm mixed in.

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Meredith Ethington

perfectpending

Mom • Author • Mental Health Therapist In Training
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Night night! 😤 Night night! 😤
If you missed my last post about how raising teens If you missed my last post about how raising teens can wreck you mentally….wellll this is part of the reason why. So lonely! But we are in this together somehow. 😂 Make sure to check out my latest substack and grab a copy of my book —- The Mother Load!
NEW ---> "When there are problems in these big kid NEW ---> "When there are problems in these big kid years, it’s no longer really acceptable to call a friend and air the annoyances of the situation. At least not the specifics.

Sure, you can commiserate with a fellow parent about teenagers being the worst.

But, to be honest - they’re not the worst. They’re kind of amazing. But their problems make me tired to my core." 

Read the latest on my substack. I promise you'll relate. ❤️
So sweet. ❤️ Follow me @perfectpending and bet So sweet. ❤️
Follow me @perfectpending and better yet buy my book or subscribe to my substack to support me.
"I don’t know about you, but I don’t really wa "I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want same-ness anymore. I want messy. I want admissions that shit is hard and we don’t have it all together. I want to have a makeup free, messy bun in my sweats run in with a mom friend and not feel worried she’s checking out my un-groomed eyebrows.

I don’t want to try to give off this illusion that I’m control of my life any better than the next person. It’s a shitshow for all of us, and we continue to hide it for fear of what? Being human?"

Read the rest on my Substack. Link in profile.
WHAT IF THIS IS THE HAPPIEST I’LL EVER BE AND I WHAT IF THIS IS THE HAPPIEST I’LL EVER BE AND I MISS IT? What if I miss the best time of my life. What if it’s right this second?
What if it’s right now while I’m in finals week of grad school, and have a kid that’s sick? 
I already miss so much. The gummy smiles of babes without any teeth. The squeaky voices of 2 year olds. The babbling of a baby that’s just trying so hard to say mama. The grammar mistakes my kids make when they’re talking that I don’t have the heart to correct because I love it too much. 

I miss a lot about those younger years that have already slipped away. My youngest is sick, much like in this picture, but he is too big to snuggle in my arms now when he’s running a fever. 

Today I had the thought, what if this is it? What if this IS the happiest I’ll ever be?
For a moment, I lingered in that thought as I stood over my sink and did the dishes. I started to cry.
Am I missing it? AM I? I felt a tug that maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t relishing enough, and enjoying enough, and being present enough.
But, then I realized, it will never be ENOUGH. 

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New year, same me. 😂 #mentalhealth #anxiety #de New year, same me. 😂
#mentalhealth #anxiety #depression
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I’ve got to admit - I’m kind of over all of th I’ve got to admit - I’m kind of over all of this. *sweeps arm generally at planet earth*

Look, I’ve never been a half glass full kind of gal. I can ALWAYS find the negative in every situation. 

But, right now it’s easy to say that I’m over it. It being.....

The state of our economy. Social media. People being unemployed. People being racist and homophobic. The debate over politics. People judging people. ALLLLLL of it. 

Everything is crap right now. We joke about it a lot. We have to in order to survive. 

It’s the one millionth day of January but Spring feels so far away. 

I’m over these four damn walls that we call home. 

Yeah, I know. Even as I’m typing this it all sounds like a bunch of ungrateful whiney BS. I hear it. I don’t need you to point it out, Karen. 

But, my guess is you’re reading this right now and realizing you’re over it too. Whatever “it” is in your life.

Some days the world feels like total crap. Everything is a mess. Everything costs too much. For E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y. 

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