Lowering expectations (can be) the key to happiness

By nature, I'm an idealist. As a young girl, I wanted to be an artist. Later, I imagined myself a photographer -- but my practical, scientifically-oriented father (he holds a PhD in Geophysics) informed me that it would be best to seek a career that actually paid. Darn. Then I went on to journalism school, hoping to catapult myself into the world of foreign correspondents, or diplomacy. Naturally, my first job was with a small, barely funded local newspaper in the suburbs of Denver, writing about the high school prom, burglaries, new restaurants, foreign exchange students, and other glamorous topics—for $7 dollars an hour.

You get the picture. Life isn't always what we expect; in fact, often it's quite foreign from how we had envisioned it when we were wrinkle-free and had few worries other than final exams and whether Joe Hunk will ever call back. (the photo here is of a much younger me, as a college student in Italy...the world was my oyster!)

In my visions as a teen, I was going to be married at the age of 28, traveling internationally at least twice a year, living in a tranquil ocean-side home, doing meaningful, intellectually-stimulating, and well-paying work. Yep, that's just about how things have worked out—minus a few details. I do get paid well for my work, when I get it. So that part, thankfully, came true.

Disappointment comes in many different forms, I've learned.

Sometimes, our image of ourselves is cruelly-shattered, with no warning, from the people whom we love the most.

This morning, which happened to be my birthday, I was driving my four-year-old daughter to preschool, who cheerfully announced from the back seat: "I wish Cooper's mom was my mommy. She has really pretty hair and nice clothes and I really wish that she was my mommy."

Silence.
"Huh,” I replied, in my best "who cares" voice.
"But you are my sweetie lovey-girl mommy and I love you."

Somehow, she redeemed herself with that statement. But still—if I am not appealing to her now, what will she think when she's 13… and I am… over the hill?

As working parents, particularly those of the female genotype, we can be viciously hard on ourselves. We must be perfectly on time, intelligent and responsive to clients! We must always shop organic, cook delicious meals that are never from the freezer, and God forbid give our child a second cookie or more than 10 grams of sugar per day!

We must exercise regularly, straining our stomach muscles because they are the "core" of our physique and without the core we are toast, lift weights 4x/week to avoid the drooping shoulder syndrome of aging women, get plenty of rest, drink 64 ounces of water daily so that our skin doesn't look like a grey sack of potatoes by the time we are 40, use natural cleaning products, attend every field trip at the children's school, volunteer at the children's school at least once a week because they don't have enough help, blah blah blah.

I would like to offer, that it's okay, occasionally, to skip the regular workout. God, nor your mother, will judge you if you serve chicken tenders and pizza from the freezer -- two nights in a row. It's okay, occasionally, to have a glass of wine at 4 PM. You will still be a respectable person if you actually decide not to volunteer at school, church, or elsewhere this year, because you need time with your family.

It's particularly hard for some people to lower their standards and be content with what they can achieve without killing themselves— and look back with fondness at where they have come from and the good people in their lives they been fortunate enough to know and befriend. Because at a certain point, something's got to give—either your standards or your sanity. Trust me, from someone who's been on the other side of sanity at least once in her life, you don't want to go there.

Here's a benefit of working for yourself: when you have a slow week, that's an invitation to actually go do something that you couldn't do if you work in an office for the big mean boss: go to the gym for the "executive workout" in the hot tub, grab a book and head to your favorite coffee shop, call a friend, see a funny movie, walk your dog, shop for something relatively inexpensive yet frivolous. Oh, and here's a wild and crazy idea: take a nap.

If you're like me, and you feel guilty even thinking about doing such things when you could be working on your business, pursuing new clients, cleaning the floors, or revamping your webpage: don’t. I am now giving you a coupon for a guilt-free afternoon before the children come scampering and screaming home from school or daycare, demanding dinner in five minutes and your complete undivided attention at the same time.

Speaking of lowering expectations, we are doing a "staycation" next week, instead of spending money we don't have on a relaxing, lovely, inspirational, stunningly picturesque vacation at a beach resort. I expect to be disappointed -- but I'm also planning to surprise myself (and the little ones) with some fun things to do that don't cost a lot of money. We will go on nature hikes and collect rocks, splash around at the health club pool, eat take-out a couple of nights, and concoct munificent tropical drinks. The kids will stay up a bit late. We’ll eat yummy and occasionally unhealthy snacks. We will do as little housework as possible. And finally, we will lower our expectations about the experience -- and hopefully, be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.