Inadequate

A friend and fellow blogger had this to say last week about why she stopped reading everyone else's blogs.

"They were making me feel pretty inadequate. Every blog made me feel like I was looking at the perfect mother. Their houses are amazing and decorated beautifully, their kids are spotless and dressed to impress and they come up with crafty ideas EVERYDAY. Not only that but they have time to be witty, take their kids on the most educational outings and take pictures whiles doing it. Geesh!"

And I couldn't help but smile while reading it because that is exactly how I feel! So it got me thinking.

First of all, I wonder if that friend and fellow blogger knows that she actually makes me feel inadequate all of the time. She is a mother of three, the most creative person I know, and an amazing business woman.

Second of all, I began to wonder if I ever do the same thing to anybody else? I try to keep this blog more personal and less business. But let's be honest, do I really write about my bad days or my messy house or the fact that I let Sophie watch too much TV? Nope. I don't post pictures if you can see a pile of laundry in the background. And I really don't post photos if I'm in them and you can see the left over baby fat I haven't found the time to lose. So yes, maybe I'm a fraud too. So in an effort to free myself and stop the charade here is a little bit of truth about me.

I don't ever leave my house with a hair out of place. But that's because I'm insecure. I show up to work looking like I've got it all together but what nobody knows is that I left a small trail of chaos behind me to pull that off. I'm probably wearing the only thing that was clean. I probably would have shown up with it wrinkled if my sweet husband hadn't insisted I take the time to iron it. I'm always running late. My house is always a mess. I go to bed every night with the intention of getting up early to work out and read my bible but that rarely happens. I still haven't put together a photo album of Sophie. I forget my shopping list every time that I go to the store. I can't cook. I can't sew. I have frizzy hair. I enjoy Sponge Bob Square Pants. I'm a bit of a workaholic. In fact, I'm completely undisciplined in everything but work. And sometimes I let my daughter get away with too much because I find her defiance adorable!

That felt kind of good.