fruit snacks do not define individual worth

Conner's birthday was on a Friday.

Which means that he went to school on his birthday.

And that equates to classroom treats for his friends.

I grocery shop on Wednesday.

Which means that I don't want to make an additional trip on Friday.

And that equates to prepackaged treats for friends bought on Wednesday.

I buy the fruit snacks for his class on Wednesday.

Which means that I am happy to have one less item on my to-do list.

And that equates to less stress for me.  Yeah!

But as I am swiping my credit card to finalize the purchase, I have a major anxiety attack.

Which means that I begin to question my decision to avoid a shopping trip on Friday.

And that equates to doubts about my parenting.  Cupcakes are the secret ingredient to raising a happy kid... right?

The main formula of raising good kids?  I was replacing it with small packets of fruit snacks.

Which means that my hands got tight and my heart started to run a silent marathon.

And that equates to failure.  I broke an invisible motherhood rule!  Complete failure.

I called my mom, my mother-in-law, my sister-in-laws, and my dead dog.

Which means that I was seeking validation to prove that I am okay as a mother and individual.

And that equates to me questioning my natural instincts, my desires to serve, and ultimately who I am deep down.

I must be lazy.  Withholding cupcakes to avoid an extra shopping trip is no way to love.   

Which means that I am a very bad person.   

And that equates to shame.  Complete and utter shame.   I am a failure.  Incapable of loving and serving those around me.

In the end, I learned that fruit snacks are awesome treats for classroom parties.  Because of two words.  Easy. Cleanup. 

Which means that I worried about fruit snacks and cupcakes for no darn reason.

And that equates to an unnecessary emotional-beat-up.

I learned that my feelings of shame originate in my desire to please the world all the time.

Which means that I want everyone to believe that I am that perfect mother that always walks the extra mile. 

And (in all honesty) that image equates to a lot of worry and planning and executing.   And it is exhausting.

Heavenly Father, in the end, doesn't love me more if I buy class room treats for my kids.
Which means that He doesn't want me to even try to appear perfect to the women at my church, school, and neighborhood. 
And that equates to freedom.  Freedom to be me.

Me.  100% crazy me.  He loves me unconditionally,

Which means that He loves my dreams of writing stories, healthy food obsessions, and imagination.

And that equates to joy and happiness and love -  when I find the courage to love myself unconditionally just like He does.

And in the end, trying to appear perfect hurts myself and the people that surround me.

Which means that the people I love then feel pressure to do more and be more.

And that equates to a lot of contention and jealousy in my little world.  

To which I choose to say, "No Thank you."
Which means that I do not need cup cakes and fruit snacks to love you.
And that equates to me loving you for the good person you are.  Thank you for sharing your true self with me.