Better at Chaos Than Karaoke

How I Traded Perfection for Presence and Found More Joy in the Mess

Over time, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing where I shine—and just as importantly, where I don’t.

I’ve learned to lean into the things that come naturally: nurturing people, handling chaos with a sense of humor, making a solid meal out of whatever’s in the fridge, and being the one you can count on when life feels upside down.

Over the years—through kids, careers, and about fifty simultaneous to-do lists—I’ve developed a very specific talent. I can turn chaos into something that almost passes for order. I can juggle a dozen demands on my time, keep track of appointments, errands, birthdays, and dinner plans like it’s second nature. When life throws five things at me at once, I don’t panic—I prioritize, I adjust, and I make it happen. Better, faster, stronger. It’s a skill that’s been earned over time and tested in every season of life, and I wear it like a badge of honor.

But I’ve also learned to let go of the pressure to be good at everything.

Take singing, for example. I’m not what you’d call musically gifted. But that doesn’t stop me. I’ll still do carpool karaoke like I’m auditioning for the next season of American Idol. Off-key, loud, and full of heart. And when I’m belting out “Itsy Bitsy Spider” with my grandkids? They don’t mind that I hit five keys in one verse—and maybe invent a sixth. They’re just happy I’m there, singing with them. And honestly, so am I.

Then there’s drawing. I absolutely can’t draw. What I do barely qualifies as doodling—think stick figurines in a classic second-grade landscape: a tree, a flower, a house with a triangle roof, and a big ol’ sun smiling in the corner like it knows something I don’t.

Same scene for decades. Somewhere between kindergarten charm and cartoon catastrophe.

My three-year-old grandson could outdraw me with his non-dominant hand, a broken crayon, and one eye closed—and honestly, I love having his masterpieces proudly displayed on my refrigerator. Mine? Let’s just say they’re better off “accidentally” falling behind the fridge.

Will I still sing and draw? Absolutely. Because it’s not about being the best at something. It’s about showing up.

Trying, laughing, being present—especially in the moments that matter.

I think for a long time, I felt the pressure to be good at anything I did. Like if I couldn’t do it well, I probably shouldn’t do it at all. But the truth is, some of the best moments in life are wrapped up in the things we’re not all that great at—singing at the top of your lungs in the car, drawing crooked stick figures with a grandchild, putting together IKEA furniture without swearing, or attempting to parallel park on the first try.

I’ve learned over time to embrace what I’m good at. I always keep learning and keep stretching. But I’ve also gotten really good at laughing at myself and knowing when to give myself grace. Life’s too short to dwell on the things that don’t come naturally. And honestly, I’m still learning how to let things go—and not chase them on the way out.

Maybe I’ll always be the one organizing the chaos in my family—and that’s okay. But I’m learning we don’t have to be great at everything to enjoy the moment.

So let’s keep singing—even off-key. Let’s laugh at ourselves when we mess it up. Let’s stay present, stay real, and soak in the moments that matter.

And don’t forget: be the brightest crayon in the box—even if you’re a little outside the lines.

Wanda would.

📌 Quote of the Day

“It’s not about being the best at something. It’s about showing up.”

💬 Okay, your turn:

What’s something you do that you’re terrible at—but you do it anyway?

Tell me in the comments below. Let’s celebrate the imperfect, joyful mess together.