This is me. (with really flowy hair that particular day)
This is a soapbox
Now could you please in your mind put the two images together and imagine me standing on a soapbox (except put an incredulous look on my face)? That is possibly what this post is going to sound a little bit like. I might come off sounding like a hater - a jealous hater at that. (because we all know that haters always hate because they jealous. And you know - haters gone' hate) Excuse me, I just lapsed into my ghetto alter image for a split second. If you've never heard the phrase "haters gone' hate", then may the Lord bless you and keep you in his palm and may you never have to hear that in real life.
Anyway, what I'm trying to get at here before I got all off topic with my ghetto self, is that I love Pinterest. (Ha! That's not what you were expecting was it?!) And I love finding cute ideas, good recipes, and adorable clothes on Pinterest. I even really enjoy it when I find an article or a "how to" piece that is of some relevance to me. However, there needs to be some sort of "stupid" filter. (I know this is impractical and people just shouldn't pin stupid stuff, but people on soapboxes don't always take time to think things like that through.)
And to be honest, this little emotional outcry I'm having is really not about what's on Pinterest at all, but the other night I saw where someone had pinned an article about potty training. Well, the time has come that I have to quit putting off my girl who begs to wear panties and actually get down to business with the potty training. She's been ready - I have just been lazy. So I clicked on the article to see if there were any helpful tips since it's been a while for me. Do you know what I found? I found a blog post by a person who has spent the last two months potty training her first child (who is 19 months old) because the babysitter gave them tips on how to do it and she wanted to share with the world. Now don't get me wrong, it's perfectly acceptable to pretend like you're an expert even though it's your first time and you're following tips from your babysitter and it's taking more than two months. But really? What is going on it your life that you have to act like an expert? Who, per say, are you trying to impress? I've noticed a lot of that lately, now that I've joined the blog world and pay attention to a few more than I ever did before (which consisted of my sister-in-law's and no one else's by the way). There are tons of sites that teach you how to be a "play at home mom" with post after post about homemade science projects and art projects and imagination projects and healthy eating projects and over-the-top birthday parties. Who is doing this stuff? And who is doing their laundry? And do they ever take five seconds for themselves? Or are they all just lying about their lives on the internet because it's the internet and everybody lies? (p.s. - I never lie on the internet. Feel free to decide if that was a lie or not)
So with all of this recent deep thought and disgruntledness due to guilt that I have yet to set up a new imaginary play scenario every morning before my children get up and right after I prepare fresh, organic fruit and oatmeal on the stove, I decided to evaluate just why I myself am taking the time to blog. What am I doing here? What kind of outlet is this for me? And I decided that it is a completely selfish way to feel "not alone" in this thing we call mothering. Our moms mothered, our grandmothers mothered, our great grandmothers mothered, Eve mothered, but I think now more than ever we are so connected to the world around us (ex.- me facebook stalking you in the carpool line. and I do) that we see what everyone with a wifi connection is doing. And it's so easy to compare ourselves to them. Sometimes we come out feeling better about ourselves, sometimes worse, and sometimes we just need a reality check.
So that's what I'm doing today. I'm reminding myself that all the people with the cute little articles and the professionally installed car seats and the amazing coupon savings and the unrealistically beautiful family portraits and the organic dinners aren't me. They don't live my life. And that's ok, because they probably wouldn't be any better at it than I am. And I would probably stink at theirs.
But you know what I do know? Today my daughter poured a whole entire, brand new bottle of Johnson's baby soap all over her and her bathroom. When I walked in tonight, our new puppy was chewing on the carcass of a dead mouse, right at our back door. Yesterday, in the very back of the garage fridge full of drinks, behinds stack of other stuff, I discovered a crock pot full of left over rotel dip from Turnanator's school Christmas party. It was looking rurnt. Sometimes I resent my children for taking time away from Aaron and me. Because we live in the same house and occasionally I miss his attention desperately. I forgot to send book fair money this morning. And at my house, Little Debbie cakes are a sufficient breakfast.
Guess what else I know. My mother didn't spend every second of her waking life stimulating our imaginations and challenging our brains, and we all turned out fine. Better than fine, even. Cold doesn't make people sick, germs do. Getting the flu because you didn't germ-x your hands at Walmart is not the very worst thing that can ever happen to you. Kids are mean. I hope my kids never act that way but learn to deal well with the ones that do. Captain Crunch has vitamins and minerals in it, so it can pass for dinner occasionally. My house will be clean eventually. It won't kill my rotten children to help get it that way. Vaccines are scary. So is Polio and Smallpox - it's tricky. There are five people in this house that love each other and do their best every day. There is a God watching over this house that loves us more than we can know, and He knows what is best for us always. And there are lots of you mamas out there tonight, just like me. Doing the best we can with what we know and praying that God takes it and makes up the difference. And thank Him so much for that. And you.
Anyway, what I'm trying to get at here before I got all off topic with my ghetto self, is that I love Pinterest. (Ha! That's not what you were expecting was it?!) And I love finding cute ideas, good recipes, and adorable clothes on Pinterest. I even really enjoy it when I find an article or a "how to" piece that is of some relevance to me. However, there needs to be some sort of "stupid" filter. (I know this is impractical and people just shouldn't pin stupid stuff, but people on soapboxes don't always take time to think things like that through.)
And to be honest, this little emotional outcry I'm having is really not about what's on Pinterest at all, but the other night I saw where someone had pinned an article about potty training. Well, the time has come that I have to quit putting off my girl who begs to wear panties and actually get down to business with the potty training. She's been ready - I have just been lazy. So I clicked on the article to see if there were any helpful tips since it's been a while for me. Do you know what I found? I found a blog post by a person who has spent the last two months potty training her first child (who is 19 months old) because the babysitter gave them tips on how to do it and she wanted to share with the world. Now don't get me wrong, it's perfectly acceptable to pretend like you're an expert even though it's your first time and you're following tips from your babysitter and it's taking more than two months. But really? What is going on it your life that you have to act like an expert? Who, per say, are you trying to impress? I've noticed a lot of that lately, now that I've joined the blog world and pay attention to a few more than I ever did before (which consisted of my sister-in-law's and no one else's by the way). There are tons of sites that teach you how to be a "play at home mom" with post after post about homemade science projects and art projects and imagination projects and healthy eating projects and over-the-top birthday parties. Who is doing this stuff? And who is doing their laundry? And do they ever take five seconds for themselves? Or are they all just lying about their lives on the internet because it's the internet and everybody lies? (p.s. - I never lie on the internet. Feel free to decide if that was a lie or not)
So with all of this recent deep thought and disgruntledness due to guilt that I have yet to set up a new imaginary play scenario every morning before my children get up and right after I prepare fresh, organic fruit and oatmeal on the stove, I decided to evaluate just why I myself am taking the time to blog. What am I doing here? What kind of outlet is this for me? And I decided that it is a completely selfish way to feel "not alone" in this thing we call mothering. Our moms mothered, our grandmothers mothered, our great grandmothers mothered, Eve mothered, but I think now more than ever we are so connected to the world around us (ex.- me facebook stalking you in the carpool line. and I do) that we see what everyone with a wifi connection is doing. And it's so easy to compare ourselves to them. Sometimes we come out feeling better about ourselves, sometimes worse, and sometimes we just need a reality check.
So that's what I'm doing today. I'm reminding myself that all the people with the cute little articles and the professionally installed car seats and the amazing coupon savings and the unrealistically beautiful family portraits and the organic dinners aren't me. They don't live my life. And that's ok, because they probably wouldn't be any better at it than I am. And I would probably stink at theirs.
But you know what I do know? Today my daughter poured a whole entire, brand new bottle of Johnson's baby soap all over her and her bathroom. When I walked in tonight, our new puppy was chewing on the carcass of a dead mouse, right at our back door. Yesterday, in the very back of the garage fridge full of drinks, behinds stack of other stuff, I discovered a crock pot full of left over rotel dip from Turnanator's school Christmas party. It was looking rurnt. Sometimes I resent my children for taking time away from Aaron and me. Because we live in the same house and occasionally I miss his attention desperately. I forgot to send book fair money this morning. And at my house, Little Debbie cakes are a sufficient breakfast.
Guess what else I know. My mother didn't spend every second of her waking life stimulating our imaginations and challenging our brains, and we all turned out fine. Better than fine, even. Cold doesn't make people sick, germs do. Getting the flu because you didn't germ-x your hands at Walmart is not the very worst thing that can ever happen to you. Kids are mean. I hope my kids never act that way but learn to deal well with the ones that do. Captain Crunch has vitamins and minerals in it, so it can pass for dinner occasionally. My house will be clean eventually. It won't kill my rotten children to help get it that way. Vaccines are scary. So is Polio and Smallpox - it's tricky. There are five people in this house that love each other and do their best every day. There is a God watching over this house that loves us more than we can know, and He knows what is best for us always. And there are lots of you mamas out there tonight, just like me. Doing the best we can with what we know and praying that God takes it and makes up the difference. And thank Him so much for that. And you.
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