Puzzle

Have you ever taken a minute to just look at your Facebook newsfeed?  I mean REALLY look at it?  Did you ever in your life realize that there were so many perfect people, with perfect kids, and perfect husbands with perfect lives?  I don't mean that to come across as negative, even though it easily could be seen as such.  My point is that so many of us work so hard at an illusion.  Why?  Why are so many afraid to admit that sometimes life sucks? That sometimes things don't go as we planned?  That we aren't... perfect?

The need to fake perfection didn't start with Facebook. Remember Stepford Wives?  That was a satirical look at a harsh reality.  Every day we are inundated with images and stories that make sure we know that whatever life we are living isn't anywhere near what we could possible attain.  I was flipping through a Better Homes magazine the other day and it hit me that I wasn't enjoying it.  I was actually finding myself more annoyed with my own house and what it is vs. what it could be.  But society attempts to convince me that if I just move my couch to the window and paint my walls that I too can have the life the people in the picture do.  And it doesn't stop there.  As moms we are the worst offenders.  My kids aren't in all sorts of afterschool programs and sports.  The majority of thier socialization occurs in school and at church.  And that's ok.  But when I see how much other families do, the guilt starts to creep in. "Am I doing enough?". "Will they be well rounded?". "Am I destroying their chance of getting into college?".  And by the way... I don't like spending every minute with my kids... I like getting a break and taking time for myself! (GASP...Did you see what she wrote??).

With me, what you see is what you get.  My kids make mistakes, and they misbehave.  My husband is sometimes a jerk (and admittedly so am I).  My kitchen walls need to be painted big time.  I've convinced myself that the ring in the toilet bowl is decorative.  There is dust on my tv.  I'm pretty sure one of my animals is due for some sort of shot.  I can't tell you what everything in my fridge is.  I am not a good cook, or a baker.  I hate it when things are out of place, unless I put them there.  Me, my husband, my kids, my house... we are far from perfect.  Yet somehow, we manage.  And I am ok with that.