I use to read more blogs than I do now. Early on in both my knitting and parenting lives, when I was still wide eyed and absorbing every bit of information like a sponge, I use to scour the internet for wisdom and guidance. I remember coming across, as we all have, the blogs of women who had it all together. Immaculate, enviable craft rooms, beautiful houses, angelic children, and both the time and patience to keep them all up.
Even though I think I’m not as materialistic as the stereotypical woman (I own mere six pairs of footwear and two purses) I wondered if I was missing something by not having the hip barn door upcycled to a craft bench or vintage glass jars to hold my supplies. Would my children be as wonderful and seemingly content if we built that Montessori style bedroom for them or took the time to walk barefoot through the woods together?
After a while I started finding myself looking at old photos of me and the family with this same kind of longing. Wait, this was it! It’s the deception of the photos! These split second snippets that I thought were wholly representational of lives were not at all. Hell, any life is going to look amazing if you capture that right second or the right angle.
So here’s a little exercise in perception.
Remember my button post? Here’s what my counter really looked like at the time.
Too lazy to even clean up my dirty dishes. And speaking of dishes,
Oh, and the cardigan photo on the button post? Here’s the real scene.
This table is 90% dedicated to the boy’s toys, so whenever I want to use it I just shove his stuff in the window. And that’s not nice defused light coming in the window, it’s hazy since I hadn’t washed the outside of the window since we moved into this house in January of 2010 [note: it has since been cleaned, but only because someone else did it for me.]
And today, here is my living room.
Yes, that’s my four year old, standing a foot and a half from the television. Yes, to the left of the chair is a toothbrush and half a pancake that I didn’t pick up when we ran out of the house in a hurry this morning. Sometimes mess and tv have to be the sacrifices for some craft time sanity around here. I use to feel bad about that. But now, whatever. I’ve become so conscious of how I try my best to hide these things in photos, as we all do, as if future generations will remember me falsely as a clean person. *Snicker*
But what a cute old little house, you say? Yes, it is cute. And old.
It sometimes strikes me as a sweet old place, full of history and charm. But most days it’s more sad geriatric to which the previous owner did some quick fixes that seem akin to putting this old gal in a nursing home. Just hang out over there for a bit longer, will ya? For example:
No, this isn’t to look at the cute cupboard or the messy carpet. It’s to show you the reason we can’t have nice hardwood floors here. See those shims under the shelf? They’re compensating for the inch and a half difference between the floor level between the back and front of the shelf. My whole poor living room sags. And creeks.
Look again at my kitchen. Those cupboards are vinyl coated. Just like the floor. The previous owners were obsessed with vinyl, plastic, anything synthetic. So much original wood in this old house has been replaced by things that look nice but are horribly cheap. It makes me nuts.
None of my old doors latch right. My vinyl windows track crooked. In the living room, when the summer morning sun hits just right, there is a strange pee smell that we cannot find the exact location of.
But it all looks great in photos, doesn’t it?