Real life: my house is a mess, and other facts
I try avoid projecting a life of perfectly staged images. For one thing I just don’t have the time. I have a family to enjoy and a job to do. But I am a glass is half full (of Milkshake? Wine? Tequila? Seltzer?) kind of gal, who tries to see the bright side of things, so I worry that sometimes I’m only sharing the “ah-mazing” stuff. Here are 3 (I only have so much time—so I’m going to limit it there) things about me which are real and messy. And maybe some lessons? No idea— we’ll see where this is going.
A tornado hit the inside of my house. It’s called 2 kids, me and my husband, and my bunny. We live and play with gusto, and we have clutter on top of our clutter. I’m not interested in reading a book about decluttering. I have no desire to watch the show. I don’t get too bent out of shape about the piles of mail, shoes, empty boxes and general school madness that claims almost every surface in my home. People come over and see me live like this. Mostly I am fine with it, until I’m not. Occasionally it hits a nerve and I go into “hide everything and freak out mode”. That said I don’t hold a grudge about it. And I might have conversations about how to tackle it, but probably won’t do a thing. At the end of the day I just want to read a book, or snuggle with my kids, or cook something delicious for my sweetie.
I buy business books and romance books, but actually only read the romances. There are 1 or 2 business books I’ve read to the end, but I will admit I’ve read way more romances. Kindle Unlimited has been such a boon to my happy habit. At first I wouldn’t admit to this guilty pleasure, but now I’ve realized that the books are fun and written by women for women and I love the escape. Sometimes I’ll read science fiction or fantasy, but really a good quirky female protagonist who has a slow burn friendship or rivalry with a lots of humor is just my cup of tea. Don’t care for angst or meanness and above all I don’t want anything too deep. There, I said it.
I don’t get enough sleep. I have long been a terrible sleeper. I have nights I rock 8 hours, but mostly I have nights where I fall asleep, then wake up to pee, then listen to a podcast hoping to fall back asleep. Another variation is I just can’t fall asleep, so I get up and try to shut down my brain. Yes I know about sleep hygiene. Yes I know Arianna Huffington would be very disappointed in my lack of sleep. I do go to sleep pretty early if I can. And I try to wake up the same time every morning. I try to avoid my blue screen. But I’ve been this way since forever. So I have learned to relax on weekends, take naps if I can. And keep trying to rest and slow down when I can.
What was the point of this exercise? That felt great! I have so many more I can share. What I have learned as I’ve gotten older is to try not to let my shame or worries about what others think I should do weigh me down. And even in that I’m not perfect! Plenty of times I get worked up. But for the most part, I have found ways to also fill my life and pages with happy thoughts and energy and even peace whenever I can.
Sometimes it’s a choice. Recently I ran a workshop, and put in the working agreement for us to be kind to ourself and others. It sparked some discussion. It’s second nature to be kind to others (I hope), but how often are we equally kind to ourselves? We look and compare ourselves to other people. We as women often try to live up to an impossible set of expectations. How come Susie can crush it at work and come home to a perfectly clean house (because she’s a model mom— her mad parenting skills have raised kids who are excited to clean up after themselves!) and then cook an amazing and healthy meal, with time to workout, and read all those important articles about how to live our best lives!, and don’t forget to scrub your pores!? Susie is fiction. Reality is messy. And it’s time we celebrate and sing out loud what’s real. I want my daughter to see the humor in her imperfections, and I want her to keep trying, only sweating the things that matter.
