Ok, it's not that much of a secret.
Sometimes I think other moms are WAY more together than I am.
Ever feel like that?
We open our Facebook and read status updates from friends who have already made homemade bread, read the Bible, exercised and cleaned the house before 6:30am and without coffee.
And we feel a little bit inferior.
I can't remember the last loaf of homemade bread I made.
I can't remember the last time I exercised.... was it last fall?
It's almost 9, and I'm still in my pajamas.
My house is not looking Pinterest-worthy.
However, I did wake up at 5, so I could read in the quiet. I've been trying to do this lately, because it's the only hour of solitude available. It occurred to me, however, that losing one hour of sleep a day is approximately equal to losing an entire night of sleep each week. That was depressing.
Even with my extra hour, I spend a lot of my day feeling like I'm chasing my tail. Know what I mean?
It's like a never ending cycle.
Clean. Turn around. See mayhem created by four-year old in nearby area, which was cultivated while I was cleaning previously mentioned space. Clean that new mess. Turn around. Repeat.
If you can tell me how to bake bread without my house getting turned upside down, please leave detailed instructions in the comment section below.
We girls put a lot of pressure on ourselves to be perfect. It starts somewhere in middle school, and it lingers into our mommy-years if we aren't careful. It started for me with needing the right handbag in 6th grade (I didn't get it). And as an adult, I felt nervous to have friends over for dinner, because I wasn't sure my cooking was super-fab. Or if I would be interesting enough to talk to.
And becoming a wife and mom opens a whole new world of less-than ways for us girls to feel. Bottle or breast? Cloth or disposable? Full-time homemaker or full-time job? Homeschool or public school or private school? Is my house clean enough? Is it decorated beautifully enough? Do I look cute enough even though I'm chasing preschoolers all day? How do all those other women do it so well, and I'm so imperfect?
So I'm going to lay it out:
YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH. ALREADY.
One of the best things about girlfriends is that we can be real.
A meal shared is perfect, when it's something simple or something fancy.
Paper plates and pizza on the couch is as fun as a "tablescape" and china.
(I recently poured drinks for friends in the kind of plastic cups you get on an airplane, and I marked names in marker.... My husband did make fun of this. And the marker smudged, so we used real glasses.... but you know something? Whatever.)
Visiting with a friend in a home that is welcoming is more fun than visiting less often in a perfectly tidy house.
I love decor, design, creating a fun and beautiful environment, and I usually have a pretty clean house.
That being said, there are 3 (or more) kids here all the time, and this place is lived-in.
You don't need to have Mommy Envy toward me, friends.
Or toward anyone else.
Even the moms who can get up and get a bunch of stuff done really early.
The ladies we see from our perspective as super-moms or super-wives.... those are our sisters who have struggles and imperfections, too.
We have to remember that we all have clutter piles somewhere.
We all feel like we "should be" more than we are some days. And we all need to remember that our friends love us, imperfections and all. In fact, I bet some of your favorite things about your girlfriends are the little imperfections that make us real and relatable.
My friend Lauren blogged about showing the spaces we don't normally want company to see. You should pop over to her blog, because she is a lot of fun, and she's super-real. Her idea inspired me to show you my "real, right this minute" house.
Would you like to join us in sharing some "real"?
Go to the Facebook Page, and post a photo or a blog link!
We can banish envy and encourage community by keeping it real, girls.
Now I'm mulling over the other "real" we could share... faces before makeup.... oh heaven help us. I don't think anyone's ready to see photos of me like that... it may be just way too much real.