Truth in Bloggertizing

Our story today begins with a Harvest field trip with my mom and my moms (group.) We drove out to a mountain farm and were treated to a corn harvest demonstration, a chance to feed farm animals and pick corn, a wagon ride, and a time to pick-your-own-pumpkin. Here are the photos from our event:

The wagon ride:


The corn picking with Elijah and Jayden:


The pumpkin selection process, involving contemplation and a squat:


Victorious! A sweet specimen!


However, what I'm realizing about blogging is, you just can't believe what you see. It looks like we had a great time. And we did, overall. But what the pictures don't show you is how hot, dirty, and uncomfortable we were. Maybe you can tell from the picture of me that I am considerably sleep deprived? The pictures don't show you how stressed out I was about getting there since I was sort of the ring-leader for my friends. We left our house too late, there was road-work, and then we were stuck behind the slowest mom in the universe who happened to be going to the same place and didn't ever waver in her determination to slow down at each intersection (obviously unfamiliar with the area) but never ever pull over to let me by. The photos don't show how impatient I was to leave, afterwards and get to a STAFF MEETING on my day off, a whole other story, or that I bribed Adessa with a peppermint candy to get her into the car. I have no pictures to show of her choking! on her candy and barfing it up with the rest of her stomach contents all over her carseat. Whoops. Normally I wouldn't include all that in the blog, but lately, I think I need to be more realistic in my blogging. It wasn't this event, per se, that was so terrible with such cute pictures, it just got me thinking.

As I've read about friends' lives on the internet lately, a new feeling has crept into my awareness, and it is... jealousy!? I have so much to be thankful for, etc. yada yada, of course I know so well the blessings I enjoy and take for granted, but when reading blogs and facebook recently I've finally pinpointed the feeling, and it's definitely envy. I think I'm feeling my admiration for the lives of others lean towards jealousy because 1. I am a flawed being and have a host of issues that need attention, and 2. because online we present ourselves without the negative or unglamorous or impatient-mom parts of our stories. It's not that we're purposely trying to omit the less wonderful parts of our lives, its just that we think no one really wants to read about it. It is easy to give highlights only, to focus and report on the exciting and amazing. Animal shows are similar, they're mostly about hunting, eating, and mating, even though that's a tiny percentage of an animals life. I am probably not alone in my mismanagement of my children, I just feel like I am because the worlds I get to peek into (as the world I've presented) don't include anything less than sunny. So, I hereby commit to tell the whole story, give the whole picture, and to learn something along the way. I also have decided that I don't have to stay off the internet to get rid of my envious bent, I just need to understand that probably everyone isn't always having so much fun as their blog or facebook profile would let on, or such domestic bliss, or intense and wonderful occurrences all the time.

I did get a picture of the mundane this time: here are the girls, stuck in road-work traffic on the way to the farm.


Is anyone still reading this? Way to go if you are, I know I get wordy.

Suffice it to say, there have been some terrible moments lately. Moments where I really doubt my parenting and wonder why on earth people have so many kids, and how can so many people seem unscathed by their child-rearing experiences. I wonder if I'm making it too hard on myself, as no one else seems to be having this much of a struggle. Calvin is getting to experience some of the parenting obstacle course, too, as he does childcare while I'm at work, but most of my struggle is during the long days when he's gone. That 6 o'clock hour, I tell you, it's a killer! Eliana is coming to life--she is so sweet and charming--but in the back of my mind I hesitate to enjoy it because I'm thinking: "You're going to be two some day. This only gets harder." For every 50 really stinky, wretched moments in a day, there are at least 51 amazing, breath-catching moments, too. And some days are better than others. I just re-read some Dr. Sears on discipline, so today I was very understanding and patient, and let my higher self deal with Adessa.

For the record: Both of my girls are so incredibly precious, and I AM so thankful for what I have, they are just what I wanted. And what would I possibly do with domestic bliss?