Perfect is the Enemy of Good

I'm working on a long-term project with some other people.   The project has been ongoing and will continue to be something I'll be working on and dedicating lots of my time to in the coming months.   We've had a lot of successes with the project but I've had my share of frustrations with it as well.

I think the main center of my frustration is that we don't have a clearly defined leader.   We have people that are leading certain aspects of the project.  Those people have significant experience in what they do and their leadership and guidance has proven valuable.   There is someone who is heading up a different area and in that area, I could not imagine a better leader.    But overall, we don't have one person driving the group, leading the project with a clear and consistent vision.    And that is what's been frustrating me.

There is too much to be said so let me sum up using the aphorism, "Perfect is the enemy of good."   It seems like we spend time not doing things for fear that they won't be the perfect thing to do.   I, personally, don't have a problem in a lack of perfection.  "Less than perfect," is what I've been aiming for all my life.  

The Big Boy Update:  My husband came into the kitchen to find a pop tart container opened and half eaten.   He said, "who got this without permission?"   My son walks over, smells it and says, "it smells like Reese.  Reese did it."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We went to one of our favorite restaurants for lunch today.   My daughter has an association with the bathroom in this restaurant and a certain thing.   Or wait, let me back up.   First, my son wanted to go to the bathroom by himself.   When he headed off, my daughter decided she wanted to go by herself too.   She did NOT want me to go with her; she was emphatic on that point.  After my son came back and she was still gone I went to find her and she was missing.  That is until I checked the men's room.   I had her come wash her hands in the ladies room and then she said, "mom, I want a super cape."   She wants a foot-long segment of the brown paper towel that comes out of the machine tucked into the nape of her shirt.   Her cape today lasted for over an hour.