My reality. The extreme home edition.

So after an all-day excursion to IKEA yesterday (5 hours of driving round trip), I crashed into bed at 7:30 last night....only to wake up at 4am.  Hit the blogsphere (bad idea) and got myself into such a funk about how shallow, uncouth, ugly, and hopeless I am as I compared my house, my body, my clothes, my children, my blog, and even my dog to all the perfect women out there who blog for bliss (someone please tell me what the flip that means???).  These are the same ones who will say they aren't perfect because in one photo there's a baby stroller parked on their shiny kitchen floor.  They are amazing beautiful, thin, and dress in trendy clothes. They talk about decorating on a budget while they have granite countertops. Their homes look like Restoration Hardware catalogues.  Their nails are always done while they wield a pink powertool.  They have hubbies who can leap over tall buildings in a single bound, kids who are models for the GAP, and their pets don't shed or sh*t.

Do I sound bitter? insecure? jealous?  you bet'cha. Well, just for funsies, lest any of my on-the-brink-of-200 followers think *that* is my reality, I offer up the following unretouched, unfuzzifyied tour of my home as of 30 minutes ago.  Young children should be removed from the room.  It's truly horrifying. Just sayin'.

Exhibit A: I have  boys who leave their crap things everywhere. They take after their adoring mama.

 (notice black Bogart hair clinging religiously to my sofa)

 

Exhibit B: I have 2 teenager girls.  Their rooms are highly classified intelligence generally, but for all you adoring fans, I declassified them just this once.  The following have been rated SDD for Stunningly Disgusting and Disturbing. I've made an art form of picking my battles.

 (her desk with the evidence of a week's worth of swine flu, I refuse to touch them.)

 

 

I will spare the more sensitive members of my audience the brazen gore of their bathrooms.  Yes, I love you just that much.

Exhibit C:  I'm a messy very artistic person. Behold my craft room.  I'll wait a few minutes afterwards in case you need to wipe down your monitor after spewing.

 

 

What...you thought I was kidding?

Exhibit D:  I don't like to clean my house.  At all.

Laundry can be found myraid fashion all over the house at any time.

For instance, on the floor dirty (see also: "I have 2 teenage girls/little boys"):

On the floor clean but unfolded in baskets in the computer/reading room with miscellaneous items spilling over from the aforementioned craft room:

Wadded up and dirty in front of the dryer:

Or on my bedroom floor, just across the way from the laundry closet:

I also just about never make my bed.

And in various positions around the actual washing devices. Please also notice my plethora of homeless home decor.  I thought I was being soooo organized and clever to store them up there.  This is what everyone sees as they walk past to get to the guest bathroom.  Yes, I have no pride.  And yes, the bathroom is even scarier.

The kitchen.  I hate to cook and I hate to clean up dishes.  Don't judge.  And don't tell Martha.

More evidence of swine flu.  At least the vitamin bottle is empty.

Hallway/entrance:

 

Computer/Reading Room:

Close up of my IKEA booty:

 Upstairs game/craft area:

 

 Yes, even MORE evidence of swine flu.  *sigh*

And lest we forget I have two boys, this is their very UN-Pottery Barn Room, sans the wet pull-ups that I made my son remove for this photo shoot.  I just didn't have the heart to show the world *that*.

(but please be impressed by the heywood wakefield furniture)

 

Now how impressed are you?  Do you think these shots are feature-worthy?  Oh come on.  Just say it.  I live in a disorganized pig sty.  It's ok, I can handle it.  Actually, I shock even myself sometimes with the messes around my home.  Seeing them posted for all posterity is quite cathartic though. I'll have some amazing before and afters, yeah?

So, dear readers, when I do post a before and after or some crafty thing...just refer back to this post so you keep it all in perspective. I'm a jealous wanna-be like most girls, and I feel bad about myself when I see other boogers' bloggers' amazing homes and talent and thighs, then make myself post sweet comments because I really do believe practicing kindness in the face of jealousy is the path to nirvana (or at least the path to maturity, which I actually do hope to achieve someday)  I just want people to know the real me (and what my home looks like most days), and then tell me they like me. It's too stressful trying to keep up the blissful blogger persona. 

Thankfully hubby understands all these major shortcomings in my character and quietly helps me shovel out and disinfect our nest on the weekends. He cooks most nights too.  Hands off---he's mine.

And no, this will not be posted to any link parties.  Thanks for asking.

 okaybye.

(*tap* *tap* *tap*...this thing on?  Ahem.  So, I got brave an actually posted this to The Lettered Cottage for their Favorites of 2009 Posts Link Party.  'Cause I'm just that dumb.
I actually have written a few other posts I'm proud--which can be seen HERE--but this one sure got a big response both in the comments and via email...which sorta freaked my out.  Kidding.)