Reality

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I used to write aimlessly on a blog about things like the ineffectiveness of sending husbands to grocery stores and the recap of American Idol based on wardrobes (hey, it was like 2008 and still in its prime). I got a comment from a random stranger one day, got creeped out, and bam! Shut that blog down to private. 

My how times have changed. Now there are seminars on getting strangers to start reading our blogs.

I still adore the randomness of the grassroots blogs. I enjoy just getting behind-the-scenes looks at real life... but it's harder these days to put it out there. I mean, blogs are really legit these days. Pretty pictures, lovely DIYS, and perfect grammar. I adore beauty in design and photos and creative things, and lovely words, BUT I also love reality. The challenge is that if you write unfiltered, messy stuff and in a perfectly candid way, chances are, you'll start getting unsolicited critiques and negative comments. Transparency is a tricky thing. 

I'm trying to find the balance between fancy and reality, and so I feel like it's time for less fancy and more real...

SO, here's my reality this week: 

  • I spent about 25 hours matching socks recently (not literally). Socks from the past 8 years of marriage that were singles. Matching socks is the worst!
  • The remaining single socks were in a small bin that Maggie tossed over the staircase. I left them there for a full day because- well- out of sight, out of mind. 
  • I'm a chronic indoor plant purchaser and they chronically die. With all the love I've given them, they still die.
  • I haven't had a haircut in more than six months. I know.
  • Most days I put gel in the front of Maggie's hair to keep it out of her eyes because her hair is so wispy and barrettes don't stand a chance without the gel. Every time I apply it, I feel like one of those pageant moms. Please tell me I'm not alone on this one.
  • My fireplace mantle is chronically full of things I want out of reach of my children, as opposed to any display of loveliness. 
  • I freak out a little bit when I see bugs, even if they're outside. This isn't ideal for my very real goal to get hardcore-domestic and plant flowers in the backyard (like how "hardcore," "domestic," and "flowers ended up in the same sentence?), but it's the truth. 
  • I crave burritos and tacos at least once per day (if you're like me, that sentence made you re-think your lunch plans, riiiight?)

So, there you have it. 

xo, 

Kate