Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The Truth

Excuse me while I dust off the old keyboard and clear the spiderwebs from ye olde blog. AHEM.
Hi there. I'm still over here wearing pajama pants, praying that the shower I took on Sunday is holding up, and spreading the peanut butter on the bread that will most certainly not get eaten by the toddler. Although if you have instagram, you may have not missed me much. Because, well, I'm a a gram glut and can't stop won't stop slapping pretty filters over the best of 20 shots taken of my (for the moment) not screaming child. I also crop the crap out of it so that you can't see the large pile of mail that hasn't been sorted or the rolled up dirty diapers that I haven't yet thrown in the trash.
Sometimes I think I'm just adding to the perfect pinteresting mother lie that the big bad internet has us all fooled to believe. And I hate that. But there's every chance that I'm not and it is quite evident, even through the internet, that I'm a complete mess who hasn't worn proper pants in four days.
I remember after August was born I was addicted to hearing that I made it look easy. It wasn't easy, but boy did I want everyone I encountered to think I had it all together. Pretending to be unscathed by keeping a tiny crazy human alive was my name and getting complimented for it was my game. It got me through some tough times.
But now with two, I have retired that game. Or perhaps, the game retired me. I make motherhood look hard. Possibly as hard as it is. Instagram might have you fooled that all I do all day long is kiss the cheeks of my babies. I don't. And all they do all day long is be sweet. They don't.
No. I have plenty of moments where I say "FOR THE LOVE" in my head. Honestly? Out loud. Out very loud. So loud that the toddler is a fit of giggles at his Hulk mother. I crytext Jared with SOS rhetorical questions like where did these adorable crazy children come from and why do they hate/love me so much that they won't let me pee in private? I think of Mother's Day and how I read about husbands fawning over their wives who do motherhood so gracefully and never complain and all I think is JARED CAN NEVER SAY THIS ABOUT ME!

I imagine his words about me to go something like "My wife tries really hard everyday at being a nice person and a good mother. And while she is trying, we give her grace."

Well, that would be the truth.


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