I don't usually like to post photos of myself, especially first thing in the morning before I've had breakfast, or a shower, or put on any makeup but I figured "why not?!" This is me as I really really look. This is the Me that my poor husband sees every day when he wakes up. It must not be as bad as I often think, because he's still hanging around, lol.
I have many flaws. I hate housework. My husband does 95% of it, and my son does 4%, and I begrudgingly cover that last little 1%. I have no sense of home decor. My apartment still has boxes in it after living here for 2 months...mostly because I can't really be bothered to unpack something unless I need it...and I haven't needed any of it. I buy pineapples, and then never get around to cutting them up so they die a slow and disgusting death on my counter until I finally have to throw them away. I am a pineapple waster. I get a new drink before finishing my old drink, and leave the glasses and cups sitting around. (it's not unusual for me to have at least 3 different drinks at one time). My husband says he could find me by following the trail of abandoned drinks. I like to watch bad horror movies (and really, aren't they all bad these days?). I like to listen to rap and hip-hop, and watch R rated movies (which clashes with being a Mormon in a big way). I can be a 'know-it-all' and I'm afraid that I'll have a really hard time cutting the strings when Dante moves away. I'm 'that mom'...you know the one. The one that everyone avoids eye
contact with. The mom that all the neighborhood kids fear. The one that's so intimidating that no one comes to the door to ask her kids to play outside. In my defense, I'm often tired so I look mad when I'm not, and I'm 6' tall, but I don't take any crap either.
I have to admit that when I started this post, it wasn't going this direction, but it feels good to admit it all and get it out there. Maybe it's inspired by all the Rage Against the Machine that I added to my iPod last night, lol. Because as bloggers, we're programmed to try to put a rosy spin on our lives and show ourselves in the best possible light. We gloss over things that go wrong or try to put a thoughtful perspective on it. We take beautiful candid photos of our children doing things like playing sweetly with pets, playing in the mud, eating fruit, working in the garden, playing on a farm, etc. We don't show them getting into trouble, being mean to the same pets, hitting their friends or siblings, getting rashes or stitches or surgery or going bonkers because they're sleep deprived. We don't show them struggling with a learning disorder or battling depression because they feel a deep sense of failure about things that other children can let slide off their backs like water. We don't show photos of our husbands struggling with year after year of job loss, and the resulting depression that comes from not feeling like you have any purpose or contribute to your family in any meaningful way (even thought that's not true in any way). And I honestly don't know why we try to hide the actual state of our existence.
I can totally understand wanting to put a positive spin on your situation, because I look for the good and the beauty every day. But I don't think that should be done at the expense of being honest about what type of life I live. I keep having to check myself, and remember that I'm living a good life and with the exception of the financial instability, I wouldn't change anything about it. I love my husband and I know that he loves me. I love my children and although I'd kill for them, and die for them, I also LIVE for them. I've adjusted things about myself that weren't in line with raising well adjusted children. I'm not standing on a soapbox here...I'm just saying that they are my whole world and I love being able to grow and change with them so that they can live their own lives and be happy and healthy. If that means that I have to miss social functions because Alex has to get to bed by a certain time or be miserable for a week...well I'll just have to skip the function this time. I can say for certain that becoming a mother has made me a better person, despite my natural tendencies. I've had to let stuff go and adopt other stuff, and I'm the one who benefit from the changes in the end.
I love the mess. I'm learning to love and accept my "bride-of-Frankenstein" streak of gray hair. I'm finally comfortable with my height after feeling like a freak for 30 years. I'm finally at peace with my hair (and happy to report that it looks good now that I've stopped trying to wrestle it into submission). I'm happy with my style of dress. I love to read trashy young-adult vampire novels. Sue me. I am a collector of yarn and patterns. My son's had better have daughters...because their inheritance will be wool, circular needles, and a collection of patterns designed by me that don't earn any money, lol. Oh, and on that note, I finally got my rejection letter from Interweave Knits. But on the positive side, I've got a mostly complete pattern that I'm thinking about sending to another publisher (and Eunny Jang included a hand written note praising my use of color in the design). I love my flawed, not-quite-there-yet life.