Reality Strikes Back
I’ve gotten a lot of feedback from the Twitter Home Tour (and thank you to everyone who stopped by) but I don’t think anyone bothered to read my disclaimer. Guys, my house is not clean. It’s not even KIND OF clean. I actually think I’ve scared all my real life friends out of ever inviting Baby Evan and me over for a playdate because they’re afraid I’ll judge their houses based on the TOTAL LIES in my post. Not only did I move crap around like crazy for those pictures, I took them in such a way that hid most of the dirt. Notice the total lack of close-ups on…anything. If you could SEE the actual, visible dirt on my floors and the pet hair on every horizontal surface in the house you would feel a lot – A LOT – better about your own housekeeping. No one would ask me how I find the time for everything, or how I keep it all together or wonder if I’m secretly a speed freak who doesn’t every sleep because she’s too busy baking pies and hunting down glass chickens on Ebay.
And so, in the interest of honesty and for the sake of Baby Evan’s social life, please enjoy a little more reality.
This isn’t actually my kitchen when it’s dirty. This is what I consider CLEAN. There are only some dishes in the sink. MOST of the ingredients from dinner last night are put away. All the junk is to the right of the stove, which is where the junk goes, and thus it is considered put away.
I suppose complaining about my lack of counter space when I use it this ineffectively makes me a whiny bee-yotch but guuuuuuys, where am I supposed to put this stuff? And don’t say “away” because that’s TOTALLY FULL of crap too.
Mere hours after I posted the home tour, E decided it was time to get moving on the First Annual Rewiring Of A Really Old House Because We Need To Move ONE Outlet. Because the previous owners (always read as: preeeeeevious owwwwwwwners while shaking fist at sky) painted over wallpaper – textured wallpaper – what should have been a 20 minute project now involves scraping, sanding, patching, spackling, and painting the WHOLE KITCHEN. So I’m living in a construction zone. The dust, it is epic.
Here we have three – count ’em – diaper bags, none of which I am currently using; a pile of unread magazines that date back to January that I can’t bring myself to throw away (or better yet, STOP SUBSCRIBING TO IDIOT YOU DON’T READ THEM ANYWAYS); my knitting bag; a dirty glass from two days ago and some trash. All things sitting (as in, currently, as I type this) right next to my couch. Besides the trash, that’s actually where this stuff goes.
That right there is a genuine early 21st century early childhood entertainment device and tactile experience. Someday it will be a real collector’s item. That is, if the cats don’t get to it first. A smart person probably wouldn’t leave it inflated in the middle of her house all the time. Too bad smart people don’t live here.
Also, for the record, we eat far more fast food than is wise, I’ve never (literally, never) vacuumed our bedroom, I currently have laundry in every stage except for “clean and put away”, half the plants I bought are still sitting unplanted on my porch, I haven’t showered or brushed my hair today and tonight I fully plan to sit on my ass watching 30 Rock instead of doing any of those things.
So please, friends and readers, don’t shun me for what you see on the internet. It is full of lies.