Over the last year and a half I’ve had a good, long laugh at my pre-kid self and all the things I said I would absolutely, never in a million years, ever, do. As an example, Logan and I have taken a certain amount of pride in being anti-TV for nearly a decade. Yet here we are today, reciting the lines from Masha and The Bear from memory because that’s what happens when you watch all 17 episodes 47 times each with your kid. Thanks, Netflix. No seriously, thank you so much Netflix, I love you. There’s a long list of unplanned for transgressions but there’s a really big one I need to address today.
Myth.
I call it The Perfect Myth and it lives on Facebook. Have you noticed? My hair looks awesome, I’m wearing actual eyeliner, and my clothes are astonishingly unstained. Pearl is beaming with dimples that will make your heart soar and somehow, my husband looks oddly pleased to be in a field or grassy expanse in the middle of a work day. This is not real life, this is The Perfect Myth.
Myth.
Before our daughter was born I had grand plans, I was going to be a real mom, honest and genuine about all of it. And that’s the beauty of real life, I get to be that real mom every day. Turns out real life is tough, messy and immune to my controlling tendencies. So Facebook is my perfectly manicured lawn, my award-winning rose garden, the calm, beautiful facade I maintain as a reward for the reality I tend each day. It contains those moments that happen either purely by accident or in that five-second window where preparation, prayer, and bribery pay off with the help of a professional photographer. I feel like I’ve earned this carefully crafted social existence. By now, we’re all in on the social media joke, aren’t we? We know that Facebook is whatever we want it to be and the punchline doesn’t actually matter which is why I’m not sorry about The Perfect Myth, not even a little bit.
Fact.
Fact.
Notes from the Ranch 
Love when you write! And thanks for this one. I know, as a mom, that the picture-perfect Facebook is the perfect myth. But insecurities can creep in and make me think, “man, maybe she really does have it all together…and look at me.” I play into the perfect myth too, and lots have times have wanted to post reality, so thanks for getting to it before me. 🙂
*lots of times*
Living in a small town, nearly everyone has run into the version of me that has no idea there are stale cheerios in my hair and a solid line of snot on my shoulder so the myth is no secret. It’s easy to forget it looks like real life to our long-distance friends. Been thinking a lot about how our photos and social media world will serve as a pretty messed up history for our kids so for Pearl and posterity, I’ll try to keep it real here on Ranch Notes ;). Thanks for the comment and following along Shannon!
I love the post! All too often people get caught up in “keeping up with the Jones'” so to say, and Facebook feeds into the all too much. I think keeping it real is the best thing to do. Thank you for this post, you are an amazing woman and mom, cheerios in hair and all. 😉
Thanks Kym!
You are a brilliant writer with such an enjoyable wit. Love reading your posts! ~ Connie M.
Aw, thanks Connie! I appreciate you following along!
You might as well accept it all as the perfect myth, Breezer. After your baby is grown, even without all those perfect photos, you’ll view her childhood as sublime and ideal, and will miss those sloppy kisses and sweet cuddles. Even your memories of the messiness and conflict will be sweet — if you remember them at all! Thanks for “confessing” so graciously.
I think you’re right. The mind’s willingness to remember the good stuff is perhaps the main reason people decide to have more than one kid 😉