Anyone else out there suffer from blog envy? You know, you log in to your friend/relative’s blog only to discover that they are living a perfect life with perfect thighs and perfect hair and fabulous vacations. And you think, “I need to get it together”. I’ve been thinking lately about what I choose to present on this blog and what tends to get edited out. So in the interest of full disclosure, here are some of our outtakes…

Let’s start with the pictures. Around Easter, I posted this little gem of the easter eggs we made together.
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But here is my first attempt.
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As you can see, things are not as Martha around here as my blog would have you think.

What usually makes it on to the blog are those rare moments of clarity when things make sense and my questions seem clear. Less likely to appear here are moments when things seem so hopeless and confusing, or I’m just too tired to care. Like the other night when I said to Andy, “I’m sorry I fell asleep while we were fighting.” And he said, “Yeah, me too.”

Someone came to me concerned a few months ago that I wasn’t talking about my feelings enough, that I was stuck in my grief. I said I thought I was doing a lot of processing on this blog. They replied, “Yeah, but the blog paints a pretty rosy picture.” At the time I was very hurt because the thoughts and feelings I post here are the most personal, the most genuine. They’re the things I could never say face to face without bursting into tears. For me, this is more than a carepage. It’s a confessional, it’s a counselor, it’s a punching bag.

But my friend is right that it’s not the whole truth or the whole picture. Is that bad? I’ve been thinking lately that we’re all a lot of different people. That even though the person I am here is not the whole story, it is a part of who I am. There is the worrier in me, there is the fixer. There is anger. But when I come here to write to you, I am as close to the person God made me to be as I ever am. Crying out to Him, making peace, seeking wise counsel. And if that’s “rosy”, I’m okay with that.

Which brings me to Mother’s Day. The breakfasts in bed and the corsages paint a pretty rosy picture so it’s hard not to be cynical and feel that it doesn’t represent what mothering is really like. But I’ve decided to accept it as one beautiful part of the big picture of being a family. In a perfect world, we would all honor each other every day, tend to each other’s needs, meet each other’s expectations. But parts of us are tired, parts of us are angry, parts of us are apathetic.

So today I’m praying a prayer of thanks. Thanks for the opportunity to sit down with my thoughts. Thanks for my beautiful children and a husband who loves me. Thanks for a mother, step-mother and mother-in-law who love and support me no matter what. I’m also praying a prayer of petition. For those who deeply desire children and do not yet, or never will, have them. For those who have lost their mothers. For those who have lost their precious children.

Thinking of you and yours today with love, Jane.

Here are few shots of our little treasures, I won’t shock you with the outtakes…
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