You are doing great. Please pass the mashed potato.

Do you know which words I can never hear enough of?

“Well done, excellent job.” Those 4 words serve as a warm blanket wrapped around me on a crapper of a day.

Maybe it’s that those words soothe my oft-depleted ego. Maybe it’s that I have a fear of letting people down, and so hearing I have done well brings with it a sense of welcomed relief.

Maybe it’s time I go back to therapy and address my people-pleasing tendencies. OR maybe, I am human, and I share in what we all want:  a bit of validation, and to know that we are pretty much doing the best we can.

The grind isn’t easy. It doesn’t matter if you have it better or worse than the next joker. We are all sitting at the dinner table of life’s randomness, and sometimes you just need to be passed the mashed potatoes by someone with a smile on their face.

Your ‘mashed potatoes’ might look like someone simply telling you that you’ve done a great job (warm blanket anyone?) Or it might be allowing yourself to admit you haven’t got it all together today, and actually instead of mashed potatoes, can you please pass the wine (which they obligingly do). It might be hearing another mum say “oh, don’t worry, I dropped the ball with my parenting yesterday too… after the bleeding stopped they were totally fine. ”

WE want to know we aren’t the worst humans in the world (hint: you aren’t). We want to know that those thoughts and fears that pop up like a pre-period chin pimple in the middle of the night are normal, and will go away given time and a bit of daylight.

And for the bigger issues in life? The gross stuff? The bloody tough stuff? The stuff that even the most organically grown, dairy free, low sodium mashed potatoes won’t cure?

Well those are the times when we need to look for hope. To find another human who has begrudgingly walked this path before us;  who’s felt so shitty that they’ve left their chair, and crawled right under the table.

I’ve been there. It’s not great. It’s all last season’s loafers and hairy ankles. Occasionally you get kicked in the head while Neil and Jennifer attempt to play footsies.

But being down there with someone who gets it, a fellow table-diver if you will, can make it so.much.easier.  As long as you don’t get too comfortable and start eating the scraps that fall on the floor.

You are doing great.

You are enough.

And we are in this together.

The fact you screw it up from time to time doesn’t write you off the guest list. We all screw up. I once ran over my 5 year old’s foot with the car, thinking he was already in (he was totally fine by the way), whilst his siblings thought it was the funniest thing in the world  I was so terrified I was going to be arrested by the Shit Mum Police I actually yelled “quick, get in the car before anyone sees!” I think what I should have aimed for was “oh my gosh, are you OK?”

He likes to remind me about the time I “ran him over with the car”. I like to remind him he is competing at the National Athletic Championships, and his giant hobbit feet  are probably ok.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t give a shit in life or take responsibility (or run over your kid’s feet..) I’m just wanting you to know that even when it hits the proverbial, there’s often a hopeful spin.

You are doing great.

You are enough

We are in this together.

Mashed potato anyone?

Tweet: You are doing great. You are enough. We are in this together. “You are doing great. You are enough. We are in this together”


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