The baby went to kindergarten and now what?

I have spent most of my life terrified of criticism and judgement.

There.
I said it.
Terrified of judgement.

I chose perfectionism as my anxiety controller of choice.
I was a straight A honor student.
I finished my bachelor's degree in two years.
Probably the biggest mistake I ever made, but that's another story.

I picked things that were easy to judge as 'good' or 'bad' and dumped anything subjective.
The panic - cold sweat, heart beating out of my chest, and running in circles to explain anything I may have done that seemed wrong - would eventually break even the strongest of perfect people.

But, one failed marriage, four kids, no grad school, and fifteen years of wandering in the darkness of perceived perfection later, I am getting over it.
I tried like the devil to do everything right and failed relatively miserably.
Because you can't possibly be right for everyone, every time, in every way.

No more picket fences, matching outfits, perfectly decorated and organized rooms, fabulous dinner parties (maybe we shouldn't throw that one away), fancy cars, houses, purses, shoes...this list could go on for a year.

I have a degree in International Relations and Economics (to this day, I still feel like capitalizing it makes it sound better) and yet I realized this morning that I have been pregnant or breastfeeding for nearly eight years of my life.
Not exactly the highly educated, liberated, I-can-do-it-all fantasy of my earlier years.
Liberated might as well mean Pedicure these days.

But I'm happy.
I'm so happy that thoughts about how happy I am pop into my mind spontaneously.
I don't even know how this happens because I was 100% miserable since I can honestly remember.

Before I could face the dreaded Judgement and Criticism, I did everything the "right" way.
Right being defined by everyone around me, and that's not even really fair, since most of what I thought people wanted was something I conjured up in my mind.
Now, by my own sheer choices and sabotage, I find myself doing everything wrong, or winging it, or having no plan - and letting myself just live life as it unfolds.

I have to tell you, it's like white knuckling on the edge of a building scary some days.
And then it's over.
And no one died.

I'm not even going to proofread this post for spelling and grammar.
This is taking things a little too far, in my opinion, but I'm doing it anyway just to make the point.
And the worst that will happen is someone will point something out in the comments.

But no one will die.
And only like four people read this blog anyway, so no biggie.

So, as I sit here with my fresh and sweet little baby (born out of love but not marriage) and my other three kids off to school, I have to face myself.
And that's pretty hard most of the time, that whole facing yourself thing.
And I'm honestly not sure what I'm supposed to be doing now.

Aaaannddd that's okay.

Right?