Let's Be Honest

I try to keep honesty the policy here.  And not that I make up stories or don't tell the truth, but it's much easier to focus on the good things and leave out the rest.  It's a lot more fun to talk about that awesome "Motivated Moms" checklist planner thing I bought a while back, rather than mention that I lost those checklists weeks ago somewhere in my "to-do" pile.  Or about the time Jack and I sang songs and danced around the living room, rather than the time I totally lost control, yelled at my child and stormed out of the room leaving Daddy in charge.  Yeah, that one didn't make the blog cut.  Or all my autumnal musings, the leaves, the pumpkins, the candles ... but not the rotten pumpkin that Jack accidentally slipped and fell on or the candle holder that shattered after one too many run ins with a toddler.  And I would much, much rather mention the scrumptious honey wheat pumpkin pecan muffins Jack and I make at least once a week ... than the double, nay quadruple, batch of macaroni and cheese that I completely scorched and ended up tossing in the trash.

True, full-disclosure isn't always as glamorous as pick-and-choose disclosure.  But it's also not relatable.  And that's what I want to be.  So for starters...

Some weeks, I just don't feel like blogging.  Then I'll look through a few old blog posts and think, "Wow, I'm so glad I wrote about all this because I would have totally forgotten."  It's the memories that keep me motivated ... well, that and the fact that my mom is very good at reminding me when it's been a while since I posted.  Then I'll force myself to ignore everything else that needs done, sit down, and catch the rest of the world up on our seemingly insignificant lives.  But sometimes I just don't have it in me.  Some weeks, like last week, I go through bloggers' block.  Not to be confused with writers' block, because that would be too easy.  I may have an idea, but can't put it into words.  Or if I do put it into words, it comes out all wrong.  And then I'll let the words sit there, and sit there, and come back a few days later and still have nothing.  Sometimes I never post it, other times I do and think, "Man, that's a bummer post." 

There are days, like last week, when I run out of creative juices and I realize I don't have any in the pantry either because they haven't been on sale in a while and now I have no way to get the ideas flowing.  So I'll look through my recent pictures hoping for inspiration and discover that *gasp* I haven't taken a single picture in 13 days!  And I mentally chide myself for neglecting to document Jude's life between the ages of 6 months, 12 day and 6 months, 25 days.  It saddens me to know he'll have such a gap in his digital baby book.  (Okay, maybe I'm exagerating a little, ... about the emotions not the pictures.)

So I look around for inspiration, in real time, and discover that there are mornings, er make that afternoons, where the breakfast dishes meet up with the remains of last night's babyfood making fest, and they all hang out together on the counter until well into naptime when I can finally carve out some time to tackle them.

There are raisins, where raisins are not supposed to be.  And ants, marching in perfect form, along the playroom wall, behind the shelf, under the table, around the toy chest, and up into the toy truck ... to eat them.

The harvest colored tablecloth that was originally laid out as a seasonal decoration tends to get more use as a peek-a-boo prop.  And the pillar candles are loaded with knicks from a certain someone who thinks they were made for rolling off the table, onto the chairs and onto the floor.

The furniture is dusty enough to communicate on.  And then the landlord calls to say he's stopping by from Alaska to check out the roof and you figure now would be a good time to listen to what the coffee table has to say.

There are piles of laundry waiting to be folded.  Piles so high I lose my kids in them.  I put them on the bed to remind me to fold them at the end of the night.  But when that time comes I find myself with only enough energy to put them back on the floor again so I can go to bed.  The process repeats itself the next day.

I rarely stick to the menu plan that I so proudly hang on the wall each Sunday evening.  We usually get about half the meals right, and then save the rest until the following week, or two weeks.  But I will continue to create full menu plans each and every Sunday because it makes me feel useful.

And, quite possibly the worst, most guilt-inducing of them all ... I still let my 2 year old use a pacifier for bedtime. 

Ugh.  I want to kick myself for this one but I have to pick my battles, and I have more than enough other ones to choose from right now.  Plus I just don't have the heart to take them away when he obviously loves them so much.  And I say "them" because there are two.  There must be two.  Otherwise he will be very unhappy.  Otherwise how else could he switch out the first binky with a cool, fresh one every 5 minutes. 

The rule is "Binkies are for bedtime."  We enforce this rule by putting the binkies in the top drawer immediately after he gets up and don't get them down again until he goes back into bed.  This has resulted in two things: (1) Jack will often ask to go to bed randomly throughout the day with the simple intention of getting some quality binky time and (2) Jack has learned how to balance his husky-self on the end of his bed, pull open the top drawer, and retrieve the binkies.   Jon and I are currently discussing buying Jack a combination safe for Christmas.

So there you have it.  Truth telling.  Reality blogging.  It's nice having goals to strive for, but I also think it's important to be honest with the process.  And life is still good when it's not going perfectly.  I am learning that even a dirty glass can still be half-full!