I’ve been having these thoughts lately, these deep thoughts, thoughts about what I am presenting to the world and why and whether that is ok and good. Do I like how I present myself, here and on Facebook and on Instagram (I am a pathetic tweeter so not sure I should even count Twitter). It is so easy to only present the very best, shiny and wonderful moments of my life. The Pinterest-worthy (and/or derived) projects, the delicious-looking cookies, the children in adorable coordinating outfits. Me, on a good hair day, angled just so to minimize the size of my thighs or the wrinkles that have started showing up around my eyes. These things are a part of my life: I do have shiny, happy moments of life, where I feel like an absolute rockstar domestic diva.
And then there is the rest of the time. When the dog hair tumbleweeds threaten to take over the living room. When I don’t brush my daughter’s (horribly tangled) hair all weekend. When I feel exhausted and even (yes, this is true) resentful of always taking care of the needs of others, at the expense of my own needs and desires. When I lose my shit and become so angry that my curses don’t even come out right. When I yell or throw something or slam a door.
Of course, we don’t share those things with anyone outside of our own immediate family, right? I’m pretty sure that there are some model parents out there who only rarely lose it but for every one of those, I’m guessing that there are two or three (or more?) like me.
The problem is, in this visually-oriented, over-sharing-obsessed culture of ours, maybe I am becoming too wrapped up in the shiny/pretty. Maybe I am so aimed towards taking that perfect picture that I am missing the moments or maybe I have such a clever and pithy Facebook status written in my head that I fail to mention the reality: that I am hurting or needy or sad or angry or resentful or just having a really, really hard time.
It’s not all bad here. Six months into this mothering of two gig and I am finally starting to have some moments, here and there, where I feel like life is slightly under control. And then the dog will eat another one of our shoes and I’m back in crazy town mode.
Which is the reality–the day to day nitty gritty, the scrubbing poop and wiping sticky hands, or the perfect life we present online, the cute after school craft, the organized closet, the picture of us with our beloved little ones, cheeks pressed close? They are all real moments, all of them. How do I share the hard stuff without sounding whiny and complaining? I love my kids, I chose this life. But, damn, if motherhood isn’t the hardest job I’ve ever had. It’s relentless and exhausting and also exhilarating and beautiful.
All this to stay, I want to stay real here and elsewhere. It’s part of who I am: the good and the bad. I love my kids and I love my husband and I love my life. But sometimes I just want to take a really, really long nap.