Call it a small pet peeve, call it a large one. Probably a large one…here it is: I hate it when people are fake. Similarly, I hate the thought of presenting an image that is incomplete or misleading.

And here is the thing. In this place called the Internet we can manufacture an appearance. We can allow people to see only the parts of us we want them to see. As a blogger I am especially prone to this. People can tend to have an opinion of me that isn’t true. Awhile back I wrote a post on my other blog addressing just this issue.  I wanted to share it again here:

I go to the store and I think, “Wow. That mom looks great and seems so happy.”

I read other blogs and I think, “Wow. They are so wise, so witty, so verbose…”

I look at facebook and I think, “Their life is SO cool.”

And then I think, “I wonder if people read my blog or go to my facebook and think, ‘She has it all together, her life is So cool.'”

Now maybe you don’t. And you probably would be wise in thinking that. But if you do, this one is for you. Cause a venue – such as a blog- can present a polished appearance. So let me scratch it up a bit. Cause I don’t want anyone thinking I have it pulled together or I know it all or my life is perfect… I hope you don’t misread this- it is not a pity fest. Just an assessment of reality:

I..

I sometimes don’t get out of my pajamas till noon. Often, I put cleaning the house before the training of my kids. I have become so outraged over my daughters refusal to eat a noodle that I launched a 2″x4″ through our screened in patio. Yes, that is right, my adult temper couldn’t handle my toddler’s willfulness. (Chris just sat there in stunned silence.) I’ve often thought I’d be happier if I looked different. I can’t even count on my hands the number of times I have heard the kids crying at night and I pretended to sleep through it so Chris would get up. (Sorry, Love.) And I cannot count the other number of times I stomped loudly off to see what was wrong with the crying kid, so Chris would be sure to get the message… I’ve manipulated. I’ve refuse to say I was sorry. I’ve kept the kids down for naps a little longer just so I could watch a TV show. I’ve blame shifted. I’ve doubted whether putting the effort into parenting was worth it. I’ve sincerely contemplated whether one of my kids was possessed by a demon. I’ve been embarrassed by my kid’s tantrum at the store. I’ve been embarrassed by my subsequent tantrum in the parking lot where I thought no one would notice. I’ve said many of the things we swear we’ll never say to our kids, and judge others who do say them…like, “Because I said so,” or “What is wrong with you?” or “being your mommy is hard and not fun.” (yes, I said that and have prayed I would never even think it again.) I’ve thrown myself on the floor in a pile of tears. I’ve actually asked my son to try to not spill anything ever again. So I guess we can add placing unrealistic expectations on others to the list…

I want to be real, with whoever is out there reading this. I am not perfect. I cannot even do the basic daily things in life (like feed my kids some noodles) without sinning, or without the help of Jesus. And that is the truth. That is me “getting real.”