No, I Don’t Have My Shit Together, Thanks.

Two and a half years ago, my 20 year old told me she was pregnant. My first thought was, “Oh, shit, I do not have my life together enough to be a grandmother.”

I mean it. I was (am) a lousy housekeeper, my credit was in the low 400s due to a never-ending mortgage issue, and I had exactly $.42 in my savings account. I sleep too much, I curse like a sailor, and oh, yeah, I write ‘dragon porn’ for a ‘hobby’.

At this point in my life (yes, I was 40), I believed all adults had their shit together. Perfect credit, perfectly clean houses, all the answers to all the universe’s greatest questions. Seriously, all the examples in my life told me that at that exact moment, I was a major failure. Both my parents and the hero’s parents had immaculately clean houses (and were able to maintain them that way completely effortlessly), were always financially stable, and while my in-laws aren’t the type to give advice unless asked, they definitely had answers when I didn’t. None of the other adults in my life needed to take a nap every day like I did, and could stay awake for longer than an hour at a time. They could keep a house clean with other people living in it, their animals were probably potty trained even though they were close to crossing the rainbow bridge, and they most definitely weren’t stuck in a depression cycle so deep they didn’t know how to dig their way out again. Or if they ever would.

Then I stopped crying, stopped panicking, and realized that I wasn’t perfect. Probably won’t ever be perfect–not that I’m not holding out hope, ya know–but I am a good mom.

And what I lacked in all the stuff I think are required of actual ‘adults’, and may never actually hit that level of perfection in my life, I could rock some advice, be there for my kid, and try to make becoming a young mom as easy on her as possible. I had experience there, since I was only 18 when I had her. Experience my parents and in-laws didn’t have.

I could give her a safe space to live, since the pregnancy was a surprise and her and the boyfriend weren’t at a point in their lives to be financially secure enough to move out.

More imporatantly, I think, I had ‘words of wisdom’ that she needed to hear that it didn’t occur to anyone else to tell her. Or they just didn’t know her well enough to know she’d need to hear. Like:

*It doesn’t matter if 2000 people are telling you something is okay. If your instincts say something is wrong, then you trust your instincts. You’ll never regret it, but you will regret not listening to them.

*EVERYONE HAS ADVICE. Every. One. And for whatever reason, most people take you not listening to their advice as you’re telling them they’re wrong. SO WHAT. That’s a them problem, not a you problem. What’s best for other people is not necessarily what’s best for you or your baby.

*This is your child. We raised our kids our way, you hold your ground and raise your baby the way you and your partner feel is best. And screw anyone who has a problem with that. Again, not your problem.

So, maybe I don’t have my shit together. I don’t have all the answers, or a healthy bank account, or any of the other millions of things that I think other adults my age just seem to effortlessly have/do. But as long as my kids don’t suffer for it, I’ll live and keep trying.

Doesn’t mean that I’m not beating myself up for not being this perfect ideal of an adult that my kids could look up to, I just know that right now, at this exact moment, I can genuinely say I’m doing the best I can.

And with everything else going on in my life? (See the About Me section for more details) The best I can do is just going to have to be enough. You know?

What about you? What qualifies as ‘having your shit together’ for you? Let me know in the comments.