Real Talk

DIARY

The Less-Pretty Picture

I had this post I was planning to write today; a post about breakfast hacks. About how my kids have developed this habit of each requiring highly specific breakfasts, in addition to their highly specific lunches (I literally have to use my body to block their line of vision while assembling their sandwiches, or else there is a significant probability that my daughter will burst into soul-wrenching tears because I put the jelly on top of the peanut butter before placing the other slice of bread on top, as opposed to putting peanut butter on one slice and jelly on the other slice, and only then putting the slices together).

I know you know this already, but it bears repeating: The images that you see on my site - on many, if not most professional bloggers' sites - don't always reflect reality. When you see a photo like that one up there, you're seeing what my life looks like when I have lipstick on, and take the time to wipe down my countertops, and have a professional photographer present making sure that the angle of the shot doesn't reveal the crusty pots in the sink. Sometimes when my children are looking all sweet and happy in photos, it's because I've told them that sure, we can go see Peter Rabbit later, not because the food I made them was just so fucking delicious that they felt compelled to burst into spontaneous expressions of joy.

I like coming up with ideas for pretty pictures; I like creating them and editing them and crafting posts around them. Imagery is a part of my job, and it's a part that I enjoy.

But it's important to me to be crystal-clear about which parts are real, and which parts are just photographs that help me tell a story - because pretending otherwise helps no one.

DIARY

I Had A Miscarriage Yesterday

Just after my pregnancy was confirmed by a blood test.

If you follow me on Instagram, this is the photo you saw yesterday. But I wasn't sitting in a bath with a cocktail; I was sitting in a hospital bed, having a miscarriage from a pregnancy that I hadn't known was happening.

Lifestyle

All I Do Is Win, Win, Win, Win, Win

At some point, I think it is crucial that we recognize the limits of our parenting, embrace them, and act accordingly.

One way to do this: by opening the refrigerator, observing the vast quantity of potential dinner ingredients therein...and then shutting the door, turning on the oven, and making pizza (and calling the tomato sauce on top of it a vegetable because CLEARLY it is, and also everybody loves pizza and so nobody fights about what’s for dinner and for a single glorious moment, life is calm).

(Also please go ahead and serve that pizza on paper plates because kids do not appreciate pretty dishes and also do not wash them unless they are of sink-reaching height and more amenable to the concept of chores than oh, say, my children.)

Lifestyle

Time To Talk About It

I'm putting up a link roundup today and it's all pajama suggestions and fun reads, and...I just can't hit publish without posting this first, because pajamas are not where my head's at.

You know, I was brought up believing that guns - all of them - are bad. Nobody should have a gun; all they do is perpetuate violence; et cetera.

That's not what I think anymore; I've formed my own opinions about guns and gun owners. I can't think of a single reason for any human being to own an assault rifle, but I'm friends with many people who own shotguns or pistols, and I understand and respect their choices. They are - without exception - extremely knowledgeable about their guns, having been raised to respect them for what they are: deadly weapons. They would be more than happy to submit to a background check at any point, because why wouldn't they?


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