NOT the highlight reel

After a particularly heated debate on Facebook about immunizations (into which we will not delve at this moment), a friend sent me a message expressing her perception that while she enjoys reading my blog (we live on opposite sides of the globe), it sometimes makes her feel like a less-than mother. The baking, the crafts, the hand-knit clothes, the lovable farm animals...it all makes her feel that her life as a working mother who has to put her baby in daycare just to get by in the city somehow doesn't measure up.


That sparked my stepping away from this space, for quite a long time. I heard what she was saying, because I know exactly how she feels. Even though my blog is a space to share my "highlight reel" of the day, I read the blogs of others and wonder...how does she do it? How does she knit and sew and dye and spin and make lip balm and raise animals and repurpose quirky furniture and weave her own doormat while feeding/educating/crafting with her multiple smart, charmingly dressed children?


It occurred to me to post now and then about what goes on behind the scenes in this house. My intention is not to complain or be negative, but to shed light on this very real life we're living, to reassure anyone who ever stops by and thinks that maybe they're not measuring up somehow. So here is the behind-the-scenes moment for this week.


Tuesday is my one night out a week; I gather with a group of dear women friends for African drumming. We eat, talk, cry, and laugh, but mostly we drum. I depend on this evening out to sustain me through the week. Last night I stayed out later than usual, and wanted to kill my husband when he woke me up at seven this morning to kiss me goodbye (please just resist the urge to write something in the comments about how I should be grateful to have such an affectionate, thoughtful husband. I am. Just maybe not at seven a.m.). 


After grumbling a bit, I read a few pages of my book, knowing that the kids were watching a movie downstairs and would call if they needed me.


Except, when Violet and Margot both got scissors to give themselves haircuts, no one called me. Because they didn't need me, I guess...snip, snip, snip...it was done!

Three years after her first self-induced haircut, Violet clearly forgot the rule: we let professionals do some jobs, like dentistry, auto mechanics, and hairstyling.

Violet's first foray into hairstyling, age two...we had to shave her whole head.

So. That was the beginning of the day. The highlight was sitting down to watch Jurassic Park all afternoon, although that doesn't make much of a blogpost, does it? We didn't craft today, I didn't knit, I didn't clean anything or recreate something I thrifted into something useful. I did make dinner for the first time in a week.

And now? The kids are gone to soccer with their dad. I'm avoiding washing the dishes by eating ice cream straight outta the tub and surfing the internet. Quick revision: THIS is the highlight of the day.

Is that real enough for you? More to follow.

*Sincere thanks to that friend down under who brought some much-needed perspective into my real life.