So here's the thing: I'm giving up on it-all.
Look, we're women (for the most part; hi Dad and the maybe 3 dudes that read this), and we are modern women, at that. We have been raised from day 1 to want it all. To need it all. It-all is what we are supposed to go after, accomplish, process, explain, document, and tie up in a pretty bow with some artful overhead shots before posting it on Pinterest. The problem is that no one ever really defined what "it all" is. Is it a Career? Children? Children and a career? Clean Children? Climbing Career? Charm? Connected? Civility? Capability? Centered-ness? Cute? Cookies? I want it to be cookies. If it's cookies, then I have crushed it-all and we can all go home.
It-all doesn't exist. Know why? Because it's ridiculous, impossible, and fairly insulting to think that there is one sanctioned path to true womanhood when there are billions of unique, gloriously human, stunning women roaming the planet. Therefore, I am done seeking the one true it-all and focusing my limited energy on my own five it-alls from here on out.
Right now my it-alls are: (1) singing Though the Mountains May Fall at the top of his lungs from a shower that is approaching its 20th minute, (2) spinning in circles in the living room with Invisible Grandpa, 2 teddy bears, a stick, and an Ewok, (3) creating art at the top of her outside-voice in the bedroom with another Ewok and a naked doll that has been colored on with a permanent marker and more than resembles a prop from some horror movie, (4) hurling his 18th truck down the stairs while laughing like a Bond villain, and (5) staring at me in a particularly disconcerting way.
You know what might help me tackle tonight's current it-all concerns? Cookies!
My It-Alls fit rather nicely on the couch, don't they?
Cookies were most certainly involved in making that happen...