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June 26, 2012

I know a mama who is going through some hard times.  She was brave enough to share it with her friends, and I had sent her a message telling her how much I admired her courage for doing so.  Her reply got me thinking a lot about the person I want to be, and also the purpose of this space right here.  She said, “I was afraid to share, because everyone’s life on Facebook always seems so perfect.”  My thoughts exactly.

I know I’ve posted a thing or two on my blog that some people aren’t stoked to read.  Like all the breast feeding stuff.  You say breast feeding to a man and they just squirm.  It’s so funny, actually.  Want to clear a room of men?  Period blood!  Breast feeding!  OVARIES!!!!  Gone!  (Sorry men, I wasn’t trying to clear you, and this post doesn’t contain any further cues.)  My goal is and always has been to represent my adventure within being a mother for what it is, not for what it is only 5% of the time.  I want to keep it real.  Trust me…you read most ‘mommy’ blogs, and everyone has their make up done, their kids are clean and polished, they are ALL professional photographers, cook amazing meals and seem to have piles and piles of cash.  Perhaps that’s why I’m not winning any awards?  People like reading fiction more?  (I seriously hate that term when it comes before any products or things that are something before ‘mommy’ takes it over.  Like the Mommy Hook.  Seriously.  It’s a hook in a baby store.  I think we get it.  Other worst product name?  Preggie Pops.  Kill me.)  It can be really intimidating…When I can manage to get a photo of Jack, it’s usually blurry and in the best one I have, his shirt is ripped.  What 5 month old kid has a ripped shirt?

I’m not sure if anyone else does this.  Sometimes I will go to post something on Facebook.  And I’m not even sure why, to be honest, maybe I just feel like reaching out and having someone validate my thought and confirm that I’m not actually crazy.  And since I have paid for therapy, it’s way cheaper.  I’ll go in and I’ll type.  And delete.  And type, and delete.  Type. Delete.  Type… You get the picture.  I’d say about 50% of what I actually want to say, never gets said.  Mainly because I beat myself up for being too negative, or too happy, or too controversial, but who really cares?  When people are real, it’s better and authentic and genuine.  No one can be that put together all the time.  Besides, the messy parts of life are more fun anyway.  Who has time to be all prim and proper?

I guess my philosophy is try too hard and miss it all.  If you try too hard to be perfect or compete with people or yada yada, you totally miss out on life.  It’s short, and it’s happening.  And I love every minute.

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