I’ve been thinking a lot about expectations lately. I don’t mean societal expectations on a grand scale, what I have been thinking about are the expectations that I have of myself. These expectations fall short of my reality and I am shockingly unkind to myself about it. I don’t aspire to be June Cleaver keeping a perfect home but I am picky about meals. I also only really want to cook when I’m in a good mood which doesn’t happen very often. My son rejoices when I pull out the box of chicken fingers from the freezer or, better yet, […]