So there's this adorable mom that I follow on
Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, her blog, etc...
She sews.
She blogs.
She crafts.
She gardens.
She's so stylish.
She eats organic.
She home schools.
She exercises daily.
She hosts the best parties.
She frosts cakes perfectly.
She has traveled the world.
She wears expensive jeans.
She has granite countertops.
She has the cutest Etsy shop.
She goes to church every Sunday.
She vacations every summer in Maui.
She has the most adorable front porch.
She likes bringing her kids to the park.
She makes gourmet dinners every night.
She has a gazillion followers on her blog.
She has the prettiest smile I've ever seen.
She has her digital scrapbooks up to date.
She has beautiful espresso hardwood floors.
She always has the cutest mantle decorations.
She had her latest craft featured in a magazine.
She lives in a house that looks like a model home.
She likes bringing her kids to story time at the library.
She has creamy tan leather interior in her hybrid SUV.
She goes to the farmer's market every Saturday morning.
She had her baby's nursery decorated months before the birth.
She makes green smoothies that her children gulp down happily.
She creates the artwork for her children's bedroom walls by hand.
She dresses up and goes on dates with her handsome husband regularly.
She takes the most perfect pictures that make my heart go pitter patter.
She has long, straight gorgeous hair that she never pulls back into a ponytail.
She drinks her perfectly creamy morning coffee from the most darling Anthro mug.
She has {insert number of kids that would overwhelm you} adorable, well-dressed kids.
She keeps her hand-sewn chevron toss pillows perfectly fluffed on her Pottery Barn couch.
And she makes me feel...
crazy,
lazy,
boring,
uninspired,
untalented,
unappreciated,
and like no matter how much I am doing,
that I am never doing enough.
Maybe you read this list and thought,
"Wow, I hate her."
or
"I do a lot of those too."
or
"Who is this Superwoman and why aren't I more like her?"
When I see all of those things, here's what I think...
I think "Who am I to be in this world of blogging, crafty, perfect picture taking,
DIY-ing, wreath making, holiday decorating, party planning, baking homemade bread women? I have four boys that laugh and run around in their underwear making messes with their toys all day long. I have been trying to pick out bedding for my bedroom for 5 years. My car is full of goldfish crackers. I suck at sewing. I can't keep a flower garden alive for the life of me. The only vegetables that grow here are generally grown by accident. I love it when my kids aren't involved in a sport because I don't like bringing them to practice. I haven't been to the gym since 1999. I have expensive jeans, but they don't fit. I like to eat cheeseburgers and french fries (that, along with the gym thing may have something to do with those jeans not fitting). I don't wear cute floral headbands, and I can't stand wearing earrings for longer than 5 minutes. I don't really shop at Anthro and I have
Formica counter tops, people!"
But as you may have guessed by now, "she" is not real.
"She" is what
happens when we combine any number of different Moms/women on Facebook,
Pinterest, Instagram, blogs, etc. all into one imaginary, perfect,
gorgeous, happy Mom/woman that we cannot possibly measure up to. Every time I do this, suddenly feel like I am not enough.
Don't get me wrong... I love social media. I'm completely smitten by Facebook and Pinterest. I follow a bunch of DIY blogs, and most recently, I started taking pictures with Instagram, where I absolutely love getting a glimpse into the fun lives of other moms, women, and friends. But it is so easy to make our lives appear to different, and in many, many cases, better than they really are.
I caught myself doing it just this morning...
Sunday mornings here are a glorious thing. We sleep in late {because we let our boys stay up late as long as they play quietly in their bedroom without arguing on Saturday night}. I smell the coffee brewing from down the hall as I lazily arise with our youngest boy, Bryce. He will be three months old this week, and he sleeps like a champ. But even still, my husband is a dear and lets me sleep in.
{So far, all of this is true. Stick with me, the reality check is coming...}
I stumble into the kitchen that I swear I cleaned before going to bed at an indecent hour the night before because the only time I can paint, craft, blog, etc. without interruption is in the wee hours of the night when all the house is sleeping. But seriously, most of the time I just stay up too late because I blog hop, get lost in Facebook, pin my little heart away, or occasionally watch American Pickers while planning my next morning thrift/garage/yard/estate/tag sale adventure that I'm too tired the next morning to actually goes on.
Back to our darling Sunday breakfast... it really does happen! I make delicious homemade waffles {even if they're made with a heavy cream/water creation in lieu of milk because we're out of milk like this morning}, along with homemade whipped cream and mixed berries. The berries are those frozen ones from Costco because even though I did go to the farmer's market yesterday, my boys were whining about how hot it was and they just wanted to go home, and the berries were $5 for a teeny tiny basket and that is just crazy expensive. I don't care how cute the berries look in their little basket- that is ridiculous.
So this morning I took a picture of my beautiful homemade waffle with homemade whipped cream and mixed berries. I made sure to crop out all the junk on the counter before I uploaded it to Instagram as my feet crunched on something... an Apple Jack? It couldn't be because we don't have those sugary cereals in this house... surely not in this house! But yes, it was indeed an Apple Jack.
And then I thought that my boys looked so cute sitting at the table patiently awaiting our Sunday morning waffle tradition so I snapped a couple of pictures with my fancy Nikon {don't be jealous- I only take pics on auto, the little flap for the memory card is broken, and I lost the lenses cap about 2 years ago and never replaced it}.
The table is filled with homemade, natural, and freshly whipped deliciousness...
The coffee is hot and creamy...
The fresh cut flowers from the farmer's market are in an up-cycled vase...
But why are only little bits of the table being photographed?
That's because the other half is covered with all of the contents of my craft hutch that I stayed up too late painting {okay, sometimes I actually do do something productive late at night}.
And that's also because we have one sweet, darling boy who is working on just keeping his cute little booty in his chair for more than a nano-second.
And that's also because the boys are only partly dressed, and they have all mis-matched, random plates {Halloween, Easter, owl} plates that I bought for $1 at Target.
And then I realize that it's possible that I may once or two have possibly
been seen as that "she" that I see on Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram,
etc.
And I realize that I don't want to be that girl because I am so not that girl.
I am an overly sensitive, overly critical of myself, overly perfectionistic, overly protective Mama who adores my family of fun-loving, silly boys with all of my heart. And quite honestly, most of the time they adore me back...
and that is enough for me.
Although who am I kidding, while I haven't missed the gym for one minute since 1999, our previous home really did have granite counter tops and espresso wood floors and I would really, really like to have them again someday :)
So, tell me...
do you find yourself caught up in all that junk too?
What gets you down?
And more importantly, what lifts you back up?
xoxo
