I’m artsy.  Presentation matters to me.  I like things to look good.  I work hard to make things beautiful.  I labour long to keep things beautiful.  Whatever gene I have that makes me this way was not passed on to my sons.  They honestly don’t understand my desire for cleanliness and beauty.  To them I sound like a broken record, always telling them to put things away.  “Who really cares if the room isn’t perfect?” they wonder out loud.  “Why can’t you care more about presentation knowing it matters so much to me?” I respond.  We just can’t seem to sing in harmony on this one.  I don’t know if the boys would label me as a clean freak.  I am trying to make our relationship more important than the state of various rooms in our home.  I think they’d more likely call me excessive.

Today, P asked me to help him on a school project.  I love projects.  The difference between a good project and a great one is presentation and presentation is where I shine.  As soon as P told me about his project, ideas started popping into my head and out of my mouth.  Before you knew it, I was looking things up on the computer and printing things off and showing my idea of how they could be put on the project board and…well…doing P’s project.  P got quiet and gave me that look.  He isn’t particularly interested in producing a great project.  He’s not even that interested in making a good project.  He’s shooting for good enough.

I hung my head, apologized and backed off.  It’s hard for me.  I know that left to himself P will put together a mediocre project.  He won’t try to make it beautiful or colour coordinated or even particularly neat.  He’ll try to make it look like every other boy’s project in his class.  It’s his project and I have to let him do it himself even if it isn’t done to the standard that I would like it to be.  I have to accept that not everyone is keen about making things the best they can be like I am.  I have to let my boys get a B or a C though I know the way to get an A.  They’ve told me again and again to not take over and to let them be who they are.  It’s their broken record song.  It’s the one thing I find hard to pick up.