Good, not Great

Nate took Mac and Jaxton to the Stake Father and Son's campout tonight. So Beckam, Jilli and I got a movie, cleaned out the garage, talked outside with friends, watched the movie, and now Jilli is sleeping peacefully in her crib while Beckam lay sleeping happily on my bed. Everyone is happy, or should be at least . . .
It's not that I'm unhappy, I just have this overwhelming sense that having happy kids and a happy husband, a clean house, and dinner on the table just isn't enough. I seem to be battling my life-long fight of being good, not great. The pressure to do more always seems to be lingering near and then there's also pressure I put on myself to be great at something. I can paint, I can parent, I can cook, I can clean, I can sew, I can dance, I can run, I can joke, I can craft, I can write, I can teach -- it's true, I can do a lot of things, but I'm not REALLY good at ONE thing. Lots of people find their niche, that one thing that they are great at, and for 30 years I've been looking for mine. I'm wondering if being good at a handful of things is what I'm supposed to be great at . . . I guess I could handle that, but I do wish I could be AWESOME at something, anything!
Push through it, I know, I will.