Real Life

I read a lot of what I call, "Mama blogs." Blogs written by mothers whom I admire as writers or crafters or homeschoolers or raisers-of-lovely-children. I am inspired every day by at least one or two things that I read, and I aspire to be the kind of mother that many of these women are.

But. But sometimes it can all be a little daunting. I'll never knit as well, sew as well, cook as well. I'll never be able to bake bread every single day. I'll never be able to whip up a Zorro costume for Dash at a moment's notice. It's very, very unlikely that we'll be able to build a tree house in the backyard in a weekend and with twigs we find laying around. I occasionally feel so overwhelmed, so inferior that I'll clear my entire Reader in a fit of despair & certainty that I'll never measure up.

So when I saw this post, I just felt completely grateful. Grateful for Stefani's honesty about the less photogenic parts of her life. Grateful for her generosity in showing us that not everything has to be idyllic all the fucking time. Sometimes things are ugly. Sometimes there are piles of clean laundry waiting so long to be folded that the dirty laundry overtakes them. Sometimes your beautiful child, for whom you sacrificed everything and about whom you obsess endlessly, will try to sock you in your nose. Sometimes your windows get so dirty you can barely see through them. Sometimes you give them hot dogs for breakfast.

Anyway, Stefani has created a Flickr Pool called "In Real Life." I've posted a few of my favorite Hall of Shame moments there, and I encourage you to post a few of yours, as well. The women who populate the group are warm and reassuring and I've never felt better about not measuring up.

Thanks, again, Stefani, for all of the endless inspiration and encouragement.