Good Days and Bad Days

Starting this blog a while back was a huge decision for me as I am generally a very private and guarded person. Being open online is difficult, and while I think I've developed a thick enough skin to handle any potential criticism, particularly after years of online activity, I always knew that I would struggle with the whole being guarded thing. There's nothing necessarily wrong with being careful with what and how much you share except that it can feel almost duplicitous, seeking to always share the good days over the bad ones. Oh, and not to mention that it can get boring really fast. And this sort of ties in to what I wrote in my last post, about reassessing the content of this blog. It was quickly apparent to me that I was being fairly one-sided about my life, not wishing to show any vulnerability, or anything "unpretty" whatsoever. But how is that helpful to anyone? Including myself? Really, I'm most in need of writing when I do feel vulnerable. So what's the point in keeping a blog (not that I've been doing a very good job of it lately) if I can't just let my hair down and tell it like it is. Sure, I've shared a tiny bit of my struggles with health related stuff, but all of that is fairly innocuous. But even with regard to that topic, I've refrained from saying much, not wishing to come off as too fixated on it. My family is of Cuban descent, and there is nary a conversation to be had among us that doesn't expound on a laundry list of ailments. I know that I could do similarly, as the propensity to fly off the handle on all issues related to health is embedded in my DNA. Oh, if only you all knew how much I self censor! I could win an award or something.

Hmmm...this is starting to come off like a "coming out" post, and perhaps it is.

Wait. Does this mean she's going to just blab on and on about aching backs and (insert ailment here)?

No.

It means that I will try to share more of myself. More of my opinions, and thoughts on a number of things, not just homeschool-related, but more general stuff, too. It means that I'll try harder not to skirt around topics that are really very important, and personal to me. I'm thinking that these will primarily be issues of faith, family, education, and societal mores, to name a few. I probably won't get into politics, because I don't feel knowledgeable enough in that area, regardless of my often having fundamental, yet unsophisticated opinions on a number of political issues. But trust me, there will be fluff. Hopefully a lot of it.

I don't do small talk very well, and I feel as if until now, that's exactly what I've been doing here. I have difficulty relating to people if I can't have meaningful conversations with them, and if I can't at least share meaningful posts here, then I have no business blogging at all, you know? It's all about what I share. And it's not always going to be pretty. But sometimes it will be.

This all reminds me of something that happened a few years ago, and I swear it's relevant. Let me 'splain. I was having a particularly bad day. The apartment was a mess, I had at least a half dozen incomplete projects strewn all over the place, we all woke up late and didn't get an early start on school, which made everything else lag behind schedule, including our meals. The sink was packed solid with dishes from the night before because no one stepped up to do them, and I was just exhausted physically and emotionally, even upon just waking up. Then for whatever reason, I chose to just escape and sneak a few minutes on Facebook. Big mistake. A friend had just posted a series of photos of her home. They were gorgeous shots. It looked to me as if you could eat off of her floor, it was so clean. Oh, now I remember, it was one of those "Day in the life" photo streams people would post from time to time, where they would take pictures of what they do on their "typical" day. Well, this typical day was extraordinary, or at least it felt that way to me. It really was. Sure, it also included some mundane stuff, like laundry and errands, but oh, everything was just so beautiful. Even the laundry pile was lovely. (Ours is often spilling out of the hamper, and onto the floor, in a non-lovely way). There was one photo of a huge living room, with a few toys and other children's belongings on the floor, and a caption that read something along the lines of, "Now to clean up this mess!" That's when I turned my attention away from the beauty onscreen and took a gander around my apartment which looked more like a post-apocalyptic scene from some poorly made film. And then it happened. I got depressed. I feel like I have to explain myself here. It's not that I'm not super duper happy for my friend who is decidedly not as clueless as I am when it comes to housework and the like. It's just that noting the contrast at that very moment, when I felt most vulnerable, was just crushing. So, I commented on the picture. "Wow, I'd give anything to have your mess. Want mine?" Then she replied something like, "Well, you should have seen it before!"

Wait. Does this mean that she tidied up before she took the picture, or by "before" did she mean the week before? I didn't pursue it any further, but it left me pondering the possibilities. Suffice it to say that I try to take what I see online with a grain of salt. Perhaps this woman was more like me than I may have realized. We take pictures of pretty things, and quite often choose to remember or relate what is best. Evidence of this is everywhere, what with magazines routinely photoshopping and editing photos to death, thereby creating an unattainable image of what is "generally" considered beautiful. And yes, many of us do the same, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Heck, had I done the whole "day in the life" photo essay, I know for certain I would not have chosen a "bad day." You see, I'm no better! And why is this anyway? I mean, while there would surely be those who'd view the pictures critically, I'm certain there would be just as many others out there like me who would view them and relate.

I consider myself to be an imperfect perfectionist, probably the worst kind of perfectionist there can be, but I hope to be courageous enough to share the good, the bad, and even the ugly with all of you, even when it's hard to do so. And believe me, it is a lot of the time.