Back To Reality

Several blogs I read have posted lately about being real. To be more precise, they were discussing being real on their blog, and how easy it is not to be.

I had to chime in.

I agree, it is very easy to portray a perfect life on a blog. Or in a magazine, a movie, a book, pictures, even a song. Anything that gives you only part of the picture means other parts are being edited.

I am a fan of editing. To a point.

When it comes to blogs, I like to see other people's fantastic craft ideas, good recipes, or their beautiful homes. It inspires me to make my life better. I appreciate being inspired. And I like lovely things. I want to surround myself with them. Beauty gives me joy.

However, I am also inspired by the real life stories. I am inspired by honesty. I am encouraged by the mom who admits to having a bad day, the house being a mess and not having it all figured out. It's nice to know we're not doing this alone, isn't it? I like to know someone else's kid pooped in the bathtub or colored on the walls. It is nice to know what people are learning on this journey we are all walking together.

But even that, we edit. Sometimes, if I were to be wholly honest and write a post in the heat of my frustration, there would just be a string of curse words across the screen. Because sometimes that is what is in my heart. I refrain from writing that and instead, try to glean something good from the junk I am going through. It might just be that I turn a rotten day into a funny anecdote, or it might be something deeper that I learned from the days trials.

For example, a real day last week.

Starting with 3 very sick kids and 1 very sick mommy.

Here is the kitchen and the banana bread I was trying to make. It took me over 3 hours to get it in the oven. But for some reason, I just had to make banana bread that day.

When James and William asked to help me, I said "no."

That's right. I told them I just wanted to do something by myself. Nice Mommy, right?

Besides, they had this craft project they were asking me and asking me to do all day.

"I got out all these materials for you, and now you are going to do this craft!"

(It took me like 2 minutes to take the stuff out, but it was the principle of the thing. Oh, and my insanity.)

This is the school room floor--no one put away their books or their puzzles after they used them. That annoyed me.
And here are James and William doping out in front of the TV, because we all needed a break. Also in this picture is the toilet. Now you really know I am not editing.
A real day and it wasn't pretty. In fact, I was near tears by the time Aaron came home. I was tired of being Mommy. You have those days too, right?

I don't think I shy away from real stuff.

Like when I said sometimes I don't like my kids.

Or that I walk out the door looking like a wreck.

That I am struggling with sadness.

That I am neurotic about keeping my house clean.

But at the end of the day, I don't want to remember just the "real" stuff. And you probably don't want to either. We have to find the balance of the good and the bad. A good book always has some sweetness and some tears. So does life.

I want to remember it all. Because most of my life is good. It is sweet. It is funny. It is fun. There really are walks in fields filled with flowers. And there really is poop in the bathtub.

When my kids are grown and I come back to these days, I'll smile at the good times.

And I'll probably miss some of the "real" times too.

At least some of them.

Or so people tell me.

Here's to a little reality now and then. But tomorrow we'll take a trip to someplace beautiful

Love from Greta