Home Truths

A few weeks ago I came across this on pinterest :



I had a bit of a laugh when I saw it, because it would seem that I actually hadn't missed the memo. I craft, I cook from scratch and then there is that marathon I'm training for.....but then I got to thinking about what people might see of me and think what I'm doing is some unrealistic, unattainable, amazing thing. It's not. Here's why.

The first thing to know is that I craft, cook and run because besides my family and friends, they are the things that make me smile the most. I credit running the most for keeping me some what sane, to me running is what yoga and meditation is to others.

The second thing you need to know is that my life is not from the pages of a home beautiful magazine:

I have trouble keeping on top of the cleaning, tidying, washing, gardening, picking up of dog poo from my lawn (and we have two massive dogs, they go alot!). Sometimes the clean washing pile is taller than me (and I am tall)... infact when I'm trying to put it away my kids are usually dive bombing into it, because it's such a large squishy pile of fun.

I am absolutely no fun at all until I've had at least one cup of coffee in the mornings.... and my poor children are aware of this, "You need a coffee Mummy?"

Despite my 40-50kms of running a week I am still not at my goal weight because I really don't pay attention to what I put in my mouth.

I cry over the stupidest things..... at least once a week. My poor husband pats my shoulder and listens to me rant and rave, he seems to have endless patience for my crap.

I am freaked out by playgrounds. I hover underneath my children, waiting for them to fall down and break something.... I tell myself it's the radiographer in me, but I suspect it's just because I am a massive stress head.

Tonight my Luke noticed a slight frown on my face and he asked me what was wrong. I walked over to one of our orginial 1940's kitchen cupboards and pulled the handle. The whole door came off in my hand and I picked it up and showed it to him.

The more uncomfortable I am, the more I smile, laugh, and make jokes at my own expense. Unfortunately I think I do this so well that I just come across seeming like I'm really aloof to some.....Oh trust me I'm not, I could be laughing away while wishing I was hiding underneath the table.

I could go on and on about my neurotic behaviour, dusty shelves and epic mountain of clothing in my walk in robe that's on the floor rather than hung up neatly, but I guess what I'm getting at here is that it's easy to take things at face value, but there is usually so much more hiding behind the surface. I craft, I cook, I run and I am happy, but I am definitely not perfect.