let's be honest...

Thirty dollars and seven hours later, I hate it.
The pinterest-inspired-picture now hangs in the basement.
A solid reminder to be true to the person I am inside.

I have the tendency to try to force myself into a perfection mold.  Because deep down inside I still believe that the perfect people cook everything from scratch, sew wardrobes, and craft their entire house into existence... instead of... you know... writing.

Insecurities, facades, and dreams aside.
I am doing no one a favor by pretending that I can do it all.

Living up to expectations pronounced by facebook and pinterest and myself - hurts.  Constantly fighting against the grain to make homemade play dough and homemade finger paints and homemade lasagna with perfectly happy kids every day of the week is exhausting.

I don't have the energy to exercise at the crack of dawn.
I don't have the energy to plan daily play dates and park dates and birthday parties.
And I don't have the energy to pretend to be anything that I am not.

Earlier this year, I decided to minimize my life.  To stop making commitments I knew I couldn't keep.  To stop stretching myself beyond my limits.  And to begin learning how to take care of myself.

I read this post today Can We Bring the Holidays Down a Notch? and you should too. Kristen Howerton said it better than I ever could. She makes some interesting points about society's tendency to over complicate the small things... and that falls upon mothers and teachers and grandparents.  It is no longer "good enough" to simply wear green on St. Patrick's day.  We need Leprechaun traps and gold and green pancakes.  Easter is no longer about a simple basket with candy, rather it is a second Christmas bearing gifts of toys and Lego's and DVDs.

The overused everything-is-perfect facade is heavy too carry.  I can no longer pretend to do it all, be it all, and hide Leprechaun gold for my kids in the middle of the night.  You can't rob Peter to pay Paul, and when my all of my energy is being drained in extraneous avenues to please the world, I am failing to be the mother I want to be.

True honesty demands the release of the heavy facade.  Because I know that living a life of complete honesty is amazingly difficult and liberating.  The truth?  My kids do not need Leprechaun gold or Easter baskets bearing extravagant gifts.  My kids could ultimately care less what projects hang around on my pinterest board.  And they don't need five billion toys or a perfectly clean house to be happy.  

What my kids need is love.  Love strong enough to teach them that everything doesn't always go the way we would like and that sometimes our expectations are not met.  They need to know and understand the power of simplicity.  They need to feel empowered to embrace the person they are inside.  And they need to know that everything (and everyone) has limitations.

I love playing with my kids, exploring the world with them, and reading stories with them.  I love kissing them, teaching them, and holding them close. That is how I best connect and love my children... because it is me, 100%.   

Let's be honest, overcomplicated expectations drain our energy while establishing unrealistic expectations in our children.  I don't want to be a pinterest mom, I want to be the real-deal-for-me-mom with Lego's shoved in my back pockets, muddy fingerprints covering my shirt and jeans, and story lines popping in and out of my head during diaper changes.

I want to leave the expectations behind and start living a life that is genuinely mine... again.