Perfect Imperfection

The "perfect" scarecrow in the eyes of a three year old.

What I am about to tell you will come as no surprise.  What I am about to tell you probably won’t change your life today.  What I am about to tell you is very, very old news.

I’m telling you anyway though, because I’m not sure the message is really being internalized.

So please listen carefully.

Perfection does not exist.

Some of you are shaking your heads in agreement while some of you are rolling your eyes.

We hear this message everywhere:  On TV, at the pediatrician’s office, in magazines, from other parents, from grandparents, and even at the supermarket.  We hear it nearly every day.

We say it out loud to remind ourselves that every parent has a bad moment, hour, or day once in a while.  We say it to keep the Mom Guilt to a minimum while we attempt to get on with our lives.  We say it because it’s true.

So why do we have such different standards for our children?  Why do our kids need to strive for perfection while we coast along in neutral, knowing that our best is actually good enough?

I signed my three year old son up for preschool story time at our local library this Fall.  It’s the perfect class for him.  The first half hour of the class is spent reading stories, listening to felt board stories, singing, and even doing a dance or two.  He was completely engaged, so much so that he stood directly in front of the teacher for most of the class.  The last 15-20 minutes are dedicated to a craft project.  This is where the teacher steps back and the parents get more involved (all materials are set up in advance).  It’s a great time to chat about the theme of the week and bond over crafting.

Last week we made scarecrows.  My son’s scarecrow is featured above.  As you can see, he cut out most of the head on his own (he tired of that quickly and asked me to finish the cutting), and did all of the decorating without any input.  He had a great time and worked very hard on it.  He enjoyed gluing it all together and couldn’t wait to show his daddy.

Across from us sat a 3½ year old boy and his mother.  His very bossy mother.  His striving-for-perfection mother.  This mother spent those 20 precious minutes telling her son exactly where he could place the eyes (she would do the gluing, thank you very much), how to color in the face and clothes, and why she should do the cutting instead of him.  She repeatedly pointed to the example created by the teacher as a reminder of the end goal.  This young boy was not allowed to use the scissors, touch the glue, or design the scarecrow in any way.  He was allowed to follow directions in order to “create” an exact replica of the one made by the teacher.

My heart ached for that little boy.  While my son was gluing all over the place, placing eyes on the hat, and choosing his own colors, this boy was just following orders.

While my son was making a great big mess, practicing with scissors, and truly discovering the magic of glue (“Look, Mommy!  I can stick my fingers together!”), this boy was learning to strive for perfection.

Perfection doesn’t exist.

It wasn’t the incredible amount of pressure in the scenario that stood out; it was the complete lack of fun.  This little boy was not having any fun.

Children learn through play.  They learn through art.  They learn through hands-on experiences. 

Children need the opportunity to create their own art, to sing out loud, to build forts out of everything they see, and to just have fun.  They need to make messes, cut crooked lines, and glue the pants on upside down.  They need the opportunity to try new things on their own terms so that they can learn something along the way.

Anyone can learn to follow directions, but not everyone can see the beauty of a scarecrow with eyes all over his head.

Kids who are free to learn on through exploration are more creative and better problem solvers.  They learn to think outside of the box.

When Big Sister spotted the scarecrow she looked up with pride in her eyes and exclaimed, “Look what you made!  I am SO proud of you!”  She then leaned in close to me and said, “I don’t think he knows where to put the eyes yet, but it’s ok”.

The mother who wanted the “perfect” construction paper scarecrow walked away with just that.  A construction paper scarecrow.

I walked away with something much different.  I walked away with a happy, self-confident child who immediately found a place to hang his beautiful Fall decoration.  I walked away with a smile on my face and a heart filled with pride.  I walked away with a little boy who remains little most of the time, but makes big strides when he plays he and creates.

I walked away with perfect imperfection.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

How do you avoid the perfection trap?

Katie is a Child & Adolescent Psychotherapist/Parenting Expert in Los Angeles, CA.  She has a four year old daughter, three year old son, and a rock and roll husband who makes her life complete. Katie has a parenting advice blog, Practical Parenting, and can also be found on Twitter.