This post is running around on facebook. I read it. Part of me was glad I did and part of me was screaming "WHY can't you mind your own business? Must you read every link that people post?"
Here's the deal. Just like in highschool, people still put on a front. They portray what it is that they think you want to see. Perfect body, perfect hair, perfect husband with perfectly obedient children.
"Hogwash", my grandpa would say.
And the following is where I get down and dirty. Read if you want, or stop here. Either is fine with me.
I'm so far from perfect that it's scary. (I better not hear my husband scream "AMEN" over cyber-space or he is DEAD.)
I carry around close to fifty pounds on my body that I don't need. I liked to blame it on pregnancy, but that kid is fourteen now. Even blaming his brother, that ship has sailed. I eat way too many sweets, not enough vegetables, drink too much fully-leaded coffee and I haven't been on the treadmill in weeks.
My husband sometimes drives me NUTS. He's sometimes a know-it-all who deserves to have his opinions shoved down his throat. But aside from that, and the fact that I sometimes feel like his mother and not his wife, we get along pretty well.
We have money worries, but really, who doesn't? Sometimes they keep me up at night; like losing sleep will add thousands of dollars to our bank account. Nope. Losing sleep just makes me cranky and then I yell at my children over every little thing and feel horribly about it for hours afterward.
Sometimes I wish the boys didn't fight so much. And while we're being real, sometimes I wish that we hadn't had children at all. But I feel guilty about that. A lot. To be able to travel to Paris or London or take in an African safari instead of having to constantly supply new pants and shoes to replace the outgrown ones would be heavenly.
Until my husband and I got sick of each other. Which would totally happen.
Our house is sometimes cold and drafty. I can't decorate at all and I haven't even finished painting the dining room, which I started in March. Some days I wish that we hadn't left Appleton at all.
But I have a couch to die for. Or so I've been told.
At times I am bored to tears in church service. Some weeks I hate the music, I hate the tradition, I hate the cliques. Even in our small congregation, that stuff gets in the way. The class I teach is most frequently only my kid, and I feel like I can teach the lessons at home, so why bother prepping for Sunday morning; but I do it anyway. While I'm in awe of what God has done for me, sometimes I'd just like to be able to sleep in on Sunday morning and treat it like any other day.
And my dad was a preacher while I was growing up. It's true.
Sometimes I'm terrified of losing my parents. My Mom especially. My brother and sister don't really like each other that much and I feel like Mom is what holds us together. So when the time comes that she isn't there anymore, what then? Will I never again have the chance to have all my neices and nephews in the same place at the same time?
I wish my siblings would put all the crap behind them. And as the oldest, I feel like I have this to say..."GROW UP". We're adults now, guys. Or at least we're supposed to be.
I spend the first 10 minutes of every day at my new job terrified that my boss will come to me and tell me that he's decided that I'm not really a good fit for the job after all. And I love my job, but there are already customers (and one coworker) who really get under my skin. The one woman who will find the ONE ITEM in the store with an incorrect sign and demand two of said item...she bugs the crap out of me.
Thankfully, I haven't seen her in a week or so. Of course, I'm sure that now I just jinxed myself.
And maybe we can't even afford to send the boys to state schools when the time comes. Maybe I know that in my head the college degrees that they work for will mean more to them, but I still feel guilty and a bit terrified that we won't be able to afford to help them at all.
And in addition to all the other things they'll blame me for, they'll blame me for that too.