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The sooner we let go of the guilt for not being perfect, the sooner we can move on to the happiness of our lives. Most of the time I remember this. Most of the time, I follow my own rule. However, now and then, I get so wrapped up in the busy-ness of life that I forget. Yes, there are times when even I, a self-proclaimed White Trash Mom, one who professes to dispense with the trivialities of "perfect motherhood", get caught up in the rat race. I find myself trying too hard to do too many things -- and failing miserably. And you know what? When that happens, everyone is miserable. Not just me, but my whole family. And that's not good for anyone. And you know what? It's not because I've failed. It's because I have beaten myself up for not doing something that was unrealistic to begin with.

So, these last few weeks, when I've found myself "going headless", as my good friend Shop and Tell likes to call it, I've allowed myself to slip into old habits. Those of thinking I need to do it all. One of the biggest problems that I've found with this program is that you wind up doing umpteen different things and none of them well. At the end of the day, you hate yourself for not getting everything done to your satisfaction. You're physically drained (and often actually ill) and hell on earth to live with (just ask your husband/co-workers/children/friends). Something's gotta'give!

So, raise your right hand, and repeat after me:

I will not...

Get caught up in the race to be perfect.

I will not...

Toss too many balls in the air just to see if I can balance them all over my head.

I will not...

Freak out over every little speck of dust in my home.

And in fact:

I will celebrate...

The fact that I have a home where my family and I can (semi?) peacefully co-exist.

Indulge in the luxury of take-out on occasion, to lighten my load and in order to spend more quality time with those whom I love.

Allow myself to watch the John Adams mini-series on HBO in spite of the fact that I still haven't read the 73 cagillion page, breaks-your-arm-just-trying-to-hold-it-up-while-reading-biography.

The idea that I can throw rocks at the Perfect Moms (those whom we refer to as the Muffia on the White Trash Mom blog...), who really aren't as perfect as they'd like you to think they are.

That about does it. You can put your hand down now.

Ladies, don't sweat the small stuff. It just isn't worth it.