Well, all y'all perfect folks are setting some pretty high standards for me to live up to! My hair doesn't look beautiful every day (I'll be honest: if you see me wearing a hat, it's because my hair needs to be covered up, not because it's a cute accessory. My dear friend that I ran into at a fundraiser this evening can attest to that! 😉) My children are cute....sometimes....when they brush their hair and take time to match their outfits (which happens when they care, which is almost never. But if I'm being honest, I'm actually okay with my kids not putting too much stock in how perfect they look...but it would be nice if the brush met the hair once in a while.) My kids are funny and creative and smart...and stinkers and misbehave-ers and are mean to me and deserve every bit of the yelling I give them. (Yes. I yell. Not all the time. But when my wit meets it's end, my voice raises a few decibels. Because I have not yet met the perfect standard.) My marriage is wonderful and my husband and I have a great friendship. We enjoy each other's company and everything is always sunshine and roses (except when it's not because he's a guy and I'm a gal and we just don't always see things eye to eye or treat each other with ooey-gooey love. Because, try as we might: STILL NOT PERFECT!)
Our house: not perfectly put together. It never will be.
Our yard: not perfect. Children play there.
Our vacations: not perfect nor typically extravagant...unless someone else is paying for it!
My truck: not perfect but it works to get me from point A to point B.
My job: as passionate as I am about teaching kids music, it's not a perfect job. Some days 6:00 hits and I am FINISHED!
If I'm being perfectly honest, I know that many of my friends in the social media world are posting the good things in life, trying not to air the bad. I get that, completely! You won't find me posting a picture of me in my pajamas, hair awry, yelling at my children with piles of laundry in the background! Because that's kinda a drag. And I don't like to be a drag.
But I don't have a problem with being real. There are a few folks in whom I take special interest in when they post because they aren't afraid to put their emotions out there, to tell the truth of living through life's difficulties, to share their weaknesses and struggles. Those people, they are real. And someone else's "real" is usually something I can relate to, something that makes me feel a little less lonely in dealing with my own weaknesses.
So that's why I write: to be real.
And because being perfect is WAY too much work!!
KC
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