They aren’t always what they seem, and rarely ever are. The world is always so connected. The lives portrayed are utter bullshit. I’m guilty. So is like everyone. We all have perfect lives with perfect families. Except for those that over dramatize and have horrible lives where nothing goes right, and everything is always wrong. Those people make me appreciate my life, even though I know they are attention seeking and lying behind their computer or phone screens.
Are these little white lies, or something more? Who even really cares. I don’t intentionally, but I guess I still come across as a cookie cutter wife and new mom. That is, unless people are just trying to be nice.
I always get the “you look so beyond happy”, ” you have an amazing life”, etc, etc. Don’t get me wrong. Overall, I love my life, but it’s far from perfect. Sure, I post pictures of my little family. I post about what I’m proud of at the moment. Who wants a Debbie Downer…all the time? I don’t think the life I portray isĀ  overly happy.
I do good to keep it together every day. I get maybe 5 hours, if that, of very interrupted sleep every day. My boobs currently have me as prisoner to my babes mouth. My husband is supposed to be managing the house, taking care of our son during the day time, and pulling his own weight. Not happening. I used to wonder how people that seemed so happy as a married couple for years prior to having kids could end up divorced shortly after. No, man, I see it now. It ain’t easy and definitely not for the faint of heart. My husband was way too pissy with me tonight just because I wanted to “fix” whatever was upsetting our 4.5 month old. Obviously he wasnt getting he job done and it was mere moments after he scared the shit out of the kid…not sure you’re the one to soothe him, dude! I literally couldn’t take it anymore. The babe screaming so hard that you would think he was being tortured. So hard that I’m not sure how he managed to effing breathe. So, I’m sorry I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to step in, but that does not mean that I want him in our bed still when he is six years old. I mean, keep it up and he might as well be because your sure as hell not. Surprise, surprise…the minute he threw my boy into my arms a hush fell over him. I managed to calm him down enough that within 10 minutes I had coos and smiles and even managed to read a book. But, no, I guess I should have just lazed to the side and ignored him.
If that sounds like a perfect, very happy, life…you got me. You called it for sure. If not…appearances lie. But, I do love my babe. And I love how we have figured each other out in 20 short weeks…even that is far from perfect.