avatarJulie Ranson

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Abstract

know why I keep making these things. Other mothers buy them.”</p><p id="364d">Cookies for the school bake sale snuggled in triplet formation inside the Ziploc bags. They looked really good, perfectly shaped, the same size. She silently applauded herself. Her son would barely give them a glance tomorrow morning. Mom always delivered.</p><p id="8951">Sometimes, she wished she could be more unreliable. Disappoint her kid now and then. Just so she could do something for herself instead.</p><p id="ebcd">Marsha sighed wearily.</p><p id="5daf">A friend’s daughter posted on Facebook that her mother was ‘selfless’ and <i>voila!</i> this post was inspired. I wasn’t going to participate this week because I had <i>nothing</i>. Marsha represents many moms who exhaust themselves in the quest for

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perfection or acceptance. In their own minds… they’ll never be good enough. I used to be Marsha. Who-am-I-kidding. <i>Hi, My Name is Marsha and I’m a perfectionist.</i></p><div id="169e" class="link-block"> <a href="https://julieranson.medium.com/goodbye-unrealistic-expectations-43f655fed25d"> <div> <div> <h2>Goodbye, Unrealistic Expectations</h2> <div><h3>Escaping the prison of perfectionism</h3></div> <div><p>julieranson.medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*TYJoDlUnEEDw9cGpnzqPoQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

100 WORDS

Oh Sure! Life is Rainbows and Butterflies

Thrifty Words 100 Challenge #16: Taboo

Photo by Taryn Elliott from Pexels

Marsha wiped her forearm across her sweaty forehead. The oven had warmed the kitchen to sauna level. The AC was dead.

“I don’t know why I keep making these things. Other mothers buy them.”

Cookies for the school bake sale snuggled in triplet formation inside the Ziploc bags. They looked really good, perfectly shaped, the same size. She silently applauded herself. Her son would barely give them a glance tomorrow morning. Mom always delivered.

Sometimes, she wished she could be more unreliable. Disappoint her kid now and then. Just so she could do something for herself instead.

Marsha sighed wearily.

A friend’s daughter posted on Facebook that her mother was ‘selfless’ and voila! this post was inspired. I wasn’t going to participate this week because I had nothing. Marsha represents many moms who exhaust themselves in the quest for perfection or acceptance. In their own minds… they’ll never be good enough. I used to be Marsha. Who-am-I-kidding. Hi, My Name is Marsha and I’m a perfectionist.

100 Words
Perfectionism
Mothers
Microfiction
The Bad Influence
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