I Don't!

Recently I've been reading some favorite bloggers musing about getting real (and I was reading these because I was not getting something else done.  Doug graciously calls it "research"). 

Postings like A Common Place Life where Amy describes the trouble with Martha Stewart is that she makes us think others' lives are always beautiful.
Or Life in Yonder when Anne Marie reminds herself to breathe when she sees perfect lives perfectly presented on blogs.
And Jill's le blab discussing how these perfect blogs are like the proverbial "perfect life" Christmas card--but presented every day.

And since I don't want to falsely represent myself as one of those perfect lives, I give you these truths.

When my twin boys were very young and my military spouse traveled, I often got asked, "How do you do it all?"
My answer was, "I don't!"
Sometimes my sweet cherub faced toddlers ate lunches of vienna sausages and crackers in their car seats while driving to Mom's Day Out.
Sometimes they were neglected while I was involved with their older sister.
And sometimes (gasp), they even went to bed without brushing their teeth.
It was a reality.

 (my little cherubs hopefully got their teeth brushed this night)

(Rose "raising" her brothers.  this is how old they were when she first made them lunch--so I could finish Christmas sewing!)

Along this same train of thought (or bounced around in my head and u-turned back to this train), I decided years ago that it was better to have someone come over unannounced for a visit instead of calling ahead.  If I didn't know they were coming,  I didn't feel the pressure of cleaning up for them.  And then they didn't idolize me because of my great housekeeping skills.
Bonus:  I had no pretense to keep up, and therefore didn't have to clean for them in the future.
Second bonus:  in the off chance that they stopped by after I did clean, they would be just as impressed with me as I was with myself.

So come on over.  See my mess:

 and notice the well worn "to do" list looking back at me whilst I type away on the computer and look at dreamy pictures of my cherubs (perfect as they are...), and other such "research."

How do I do it all indeed?

part II soon...