My family never eats non-organic food. I buy fresh floral bouquets from the Farmer’s Market every weekend. My kids do not know what a Happy Meal is. I love DIY home improvement projects. I have never tried to put my kids to bed early so I could drink red wine and watch Scandal. We always find time for a leisurely brunch. I don’t let Sesame Street “parent” my kids on Saturday morning while I drink coffee. My sweatpants are designer and cool, not from Costco.
I have fantasized about living inside my Instagram feed- a world of perfect florals, tea in vintage teacups, smoothies drunk with posh straws from perfect milk glass bottles, an expertly placed afghan draped over tanned shoulders, kids with mohawks who obviously wear whatever their parents suggest, never ending vacations and gorgeously coiffed hair all on a beautifully styled, generally white background. A world of people who have never looked down in the grocery store and discovered they have baby poo on their jeans.
My world is much different- perpetually running 5 minutes late for pre-school drop off, racing from there to a meeting (and discovering en route that my shirt is on inside out) followed by an unscheduled dash to the dollar store because I’ve just realized today is the pre-school Valentine’s Day party and I was in charge of bringing the paper plates (what kid doesn’t love discount New Year’s Eve plates for a Valentine’s Day party).
There may be the perfect Spring bouquet, but it’s more likely there will be a bowl of spaghetti dumped on the floor.
My family’s stories are the non-Instagram variety- light on the vintage glassware, heavy on the spilled food. It’s okay- pretty can be overrated, the most fun often leaves the biggest mess.