As I sadly admitted before, I have an internet addiction, particularly to mom blogs and instagram accounts. As I also tried to explain away my addiction before, they help with Nola’s
fat healthy self loving to eat every few hours. Lately, I have noticed there is a lot of commotion about the way bloggers/instagrammers are portraying their lives with some calling for moms to keep it real, to show the real side of motherhood. (And by bloggers I mean people with real followers. Not me and my 5 readers) And I do agree with this. Heck, most of my posts paint my life as one big chaotic mess. And it is. A lot Most of the time. However, during all of the tears, the screams, the messes, the sleep deprivation, the frustrations – there are “perfect” moments. Actual lots of amazing, hilarious, glorious moments. Yet, somedays it is hard to find those. Sometimes it is easy to fixate on the fact that your growing young boy hasn’t eaten a healthy thing in days or that you just battled (unsuccessfully) for the past hour over watching Cars 2. A lot of times you are just trying to keep up with the housework or struggle to get to store without your two year old kid getting way too tired and melting down in aisle 3 over Stage 1 baby food pouches. These hard things, the difficult things, often consume us. They blur the beauty. So when we check out instagram midday/midscream and see a beautiful, clean kitchen with adorable kids eating their quinoa and tofu lunch – we get annoyed. We call out the BS. We start to wonder if we are doing something wrong. Or we roll our eyes and claim that the mom stages that. We sometimes don’t realize is that moment did happened. We just don’t see what happened 2 minutes before the picture of 30 seconds after.
And so I have decided to back off the moms with their perfect kitchens, adorable kids and creative activities. They are showing the “real”. Those moments happened for them. They also happen for me. Often. I just some times forget to stop and recognize them. I’m often too wrapped up in wanting that pinterest bathroom or feeling inadequate because I didn’t start my day with a $5 Shakeology and Beach Body workout.
Today I am calling a truce with my love/hate of the “get real” campaign. I understand why it can be frustrating to see the beautiful photos posted, but those photos would be less frustrating if I start “getting real” with the beauty in my own day.
Like the mornings when Flynn runs and hugs Nan’s legs.
Or the times Nola laughs, a huge belly laugh, at Flynn’s antics.
And the short time Flynn paints peacefully.
Or when he sits in my lap and snuggles up to read his 900 Mater books.
And when Nola smiles a huge smile as soon as she sees my face.
Each of those moments if told with the “full picture” wouldn’t be sound so beautiful. There would be mess, snot and tears. There would me wanting to tell Nola to f off because I am tired of her demanding me to hold her every time I walk by. There would be the spilled paint, a messy sink. But there also will be some of those beautiful, peaceful moments. They happen. Regularly. If I stopped focusing on other people’s beauty on pinterest/instagram/blogs I would see the beautiful moments that happen every day right before my very eyes….that just happen to be sandwiched between a whiny request for Mater/Mcqueen.