My firm expectation that life was generally supposed to be awesome, was only mildly muddied by the bumps I faced, in my younger years. I predominantly maintained the philosophy that heartbreak, uncertainty, angst, and grief were the exception. And that life was “supposed” to mostly feel good.
I thought the goal was to remove the obstacles, be always moving towards settling the disquietude, solving the problem, removing the pain, learning the lesson as quickly as possible, so I could do better. Be better. Fail less. Hurt less.
And when I became a mom, I thought motherhood was “supposed” to feel amazing almost all of the time, too. I was always thinking about how to remove or repair the things standing in the way of experiencing motherhood as mostly fun and wonderful.
The wheels of my mind spun with new answers and things I had read, formulas and systems and solutions to fix myself and my children and my home right up into the perfect versions I thought they should be.