Daddy will be home soon... Right!?!?!?

A lot of my blog posts are my way of showcasing/preserving/capturing/bragging about my life. Our life. A life full of fun and smiles and events and happiness and pictures. But it is not always this way. No, indeed, it is NOT. This is a post about those other days. The real days. The 99% days. (Well maybe not 99% of my days, but when I'm having one, it sure feels like it!) Lest everyone who reads this think things are peachy all the time over here, I'm here to tell you the truth. The real truth and nothing but the truth.

These are the days of colds, bacterial eye infections, snot, headaches, spit-up, doctor appointments, tylenol, grocery shopping, house cleaning, errand running, diaper changing, food making, and mess cleaning. There are the counting-the-minutes-until-Daddy-gets-home, stick-them-in-front-of-a-movie, have-an-adult-beverage-with-lunch days. And there are times where I haven't showered for days nor remember when I last used the bathroom alone.

I don't often write about those days, the days I have most of the time a lot, the way I spent most some of my life, because I like to try to forget them. I don't care to relive those days so blogging about them is pretty much out of the question. I do have a friend with whom I text regularly, which helps keep me on the sane side of normal (if even by a smidge). I may or may not have texted her yesterday that I had launched Austin's sippy cup across the room (he's not allowed to throw it) because he kept dropping it. On purpose. After it (allegedly) went flying across the room, he (may have) turned to me and said "no Mommy, no throwing!" Might have.

I also may have texted with her about the fact that though I'm glad he's doing better language-wise, I might have actually asked him to stop talking. I might have actually said "please stop talking to me." See, there are times when one needs a minute of quiet to have a single, straight, coherent, fully-finished thought, and a non-stop talking toddler can do some serious damage to those thought processes!

There's the week I was so sick that we basically did nothing all week. We watched tv and movies and I laid on the couch willing myself to live. We barely touched any Summer "School" stuff and each day was a day to survive until 6pm (when Daddy gets home). So during that week, when Graham came across any number of dog chew toys and started using them as his own, I might have just taken a picture and attempted to comfort myself with some vague memory of a study showing kids who grow up with dogs to be overall healthier and have fewer allergies. "Just gonna make him heartier, right?" I texted my friend. "Absolutely!" she replied.

There's the time I left them (strapped in) in a grocery cart and went an aisle over because it was either that or something much worse. There's the time I went to Target and walked aimlessly around for 2 hours, with them in tow, because I just needed to get out of the house and see some adults. Even if I didn't talk to them (which I probably didn't which is no surprise to anyone who knows me and has read my stuff for very long). There's the time that I went grocery shopping and bought pretty nearly nothing but junk food because I was consoling myself through 1) retail therapy and 2) eating my emotions (later, upon arriving home with all the junk).

There's the time that after not having showered for 2 days, I slathered on deodorant and put on a new (but not not-stained--I only own about 4 shirts that don't have stains on them--snot, spit up, you name it) shirt to go to Starbucks drivethrough and stop off at Tom Thumb for necessities. And upon encountering a mom obviously having a day worse than mine, stopped in my tracks and prayed for her as she attempted to load her kids. Because see, while I don't regularly (if ever) blog about my experiences on a day-to-day basis, I do pray about them and text with friends about them and complain about them when I see friends face-to-face. If I didn't, I don't know how I'd survive.

I read The Feminine Mystique once, and now more than ever, I totally get what those 1950s housewives/SAHMs were complaining about. And while I do think that the internet has almost made the problem worse (Pinterest, Facebook, Blogs, etc) in that they've seemingly created nearly unreachable standards, I do think that our ability to stay so connected helps the situation. IF you let it. If you fail to take the grain of wisdom from the blog or appreciate for appreciation-sake the idea you saw on Pinterest, but rather put those things in the category of you-must-do-or-you're-a-failure-at-life, then you're using our ability to be so connected the wrong way.

Is it tempting to see all these recipes and crafts and home decor on Pinterest and compare your last meal, your craftiness, or your home to those pictures? Sure! But if you remember that they probably only posted the best of the best, then it's not so bad. I'm not a great cook. I don't enjoy it. So I stay away completely from Pinterest food and other sources of comparing my cooking/meals to others. I accept I'm not good at it, don't give it the time it would really need to accomplish some of those pictures, and just generally don't care. I've accepted that about myself so the pictures don't bother me. I don't feel worse because I haven't cooked some elaborate thing for my family (or bought all organic food, for example).

I do tend to be pretty crafty, but my sons thus far couldn't care less. And so I've learned to do a minimal job where "required" (Father's Day card for example) and call it a day. I can do whatever I want, at my level, when they're in bed. I don't need to compete with the mom whose toddlers all made their own valentines. Ain't Nobody Got Time For That. And besides, half the fun of being crafty, for me, is to be the one coming up with the ideas in the first place! And my house? I love it! When I need an idea for a particular project/situation, I look into it. I search online to find ideas. And then I get off because I'm happy with my house. Ain't Nobody Gonna Make Me Feel Bad About It.

And so while I've written what I have to encourage you and to be real with you, I'm done reliving those moments and plan to enjoy the rest of naptime because once the boys are up, it's still several hours until Daddy comes home. And please, if I post something on this blog it's because it's important to me, not because it should be important to you. Don't be adding stuff to your list just because it's on mine.

Me too, dude. Me too.