REAL reality

A week or so ago a friend hesitantly shared with me a story illustrating how bad the mess in her kitchen had gotten. I say 'hesitantly,' because she was completely embarrassed and terrified I'd judge and think less of her. Instead I laughed and related my story of shame. Yeah... it involved maggots and a neglected cheese fondue pot.
[pardon me while I go vomit]
So why on earth would I blab and expose my humiliating "dirty secret?"
Good question. Except...
see, for years now I've been developing this theory of mine that I like to call The Game. It's something we all play although it is never discussed. Actually, that's kind of the point: we all try to appear more perfect than we really are. You know, 'put on a happy face,' 'shove the mess in the closet,' 'don't hang out your dirty laundry,' -- all that. There's even a scripted dialogue that is followed when company arrives.
You've been madly cleaning for the last 15 mins. Now you're vacuuming and the doorbell rings. You quickly hide the evidence and then answer the door. Your company comes in, all smiles. You cheerily greet them and then say,
"excuse the mess" or "sorry it's such a disaster" or whatever.
Your company then laughs and says,
"no, no, it looks great - you should see our house!"
And the evening commences.

Why?!
Why do we do that?
I mean, I realize there is an amount of logistics involved when the couch is required to sit upon rather than hold laundry. And then there is the courtesy factor. But I daresay I'm not the only one who stresses over unannounced visitors, or cringes when the neighbor comes over to use the phone and has to walk through your living room in order to do so. Heaven forbid anyone need to use the bathroom because the kids' bath is always disgusting, and my bath? Yikes. That would require walking through my bedroom! I'll admit I've even canceled Visiting Teaching appointments last minute because there was no possibility of cleaning up in time.
Even with all the light-hearted dialogue of everyone else saying their house is just as messy or worse, it's not enough to feel okay exposing yourself like that. After all, when you go to their house everything is spic-n-span and they're apologizing profusely over nothing. Just like you did. But you don't actually ever SEE the mess in the closet, so you can't really be sure.
And then there are the freaks of nature who you know that really cannot go to bed at night if the dishes are not done.
I used to tell myself that they were just minimalists, and that's why they could keep the house clean -- there was nothing there to clean up.
But I know better.
I know now that there really are people in this world who are just innately able to contain mess. How? No idea. Talent, skill, whatever. I still think it's freakish. But only because I'm jealous. And it makes me feel inferior.
But WHY?
I don't feel ashamed that I'm no Picasso. I openly admit I have no athletic ability and yet have never thought myself less of a person because of it.
So why all the shame over my house?
Part of it is that for a long time I didn't believe anyone else truly was as messy as I/my house.
Irrational, I realize. But still. I'm just beginning to believe that there are other people out there like me. And not just criminals or bad people. Regular folks. Probably... maybe... most folks.
This brings me back to my theory -- that we all play The Game: make yourself look better than you really are.
The problem is, it's a stupid game. It benefits no one to put up a pretense. In fact, it isolates you in your time of need, which, for me, happens to be quite often. But I'm too embarrassed to ask for help. Someone might find me out and discover what is already plain knowledge -- that I'm not perfect. Surprise!

I'm rambling. Sorry.

It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately.
I'm feeling overwhelmed and therefore way under... par? Sub-standard. Out of sorts. Not up to snuff. Flailing. Failing.
Seriously.
And just to prove my point, here is proof of my disgrace:

My house, in all its glory.
(note the Halloween decor yet to be put away)


kitchen


dining rm - yes, that's a full-sized coffin instead of a table


living rm


kids' rooms - in all fairness, they were making forts


hallway, kids' bath


"music room" aka: storage


my bedroom, and yes, I did just make my bed.
(note all the bags of food storage piled up)

And with all that, all I can do is take pictures and show everyone! LOL

Reality is, this is reality. (Brilliant, I know)
I'm not gifted in the house-keeping arena. Even worse with kids & pregnancy.
But I'm tired of feeling inferior, ashamed and like a horrible person.
Because at the end of the day,
this is what I get to do --



-- and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So just be warned, I'm giving fair notice right now:
if you come to my house there is an overwhelmingly good chance that it will be a disaster and look like a tornado (or 3) has gone through it.
And I'm not going to apologize anymore. It is what it is.
But I also promise you won't hear a word of complaint about your house. Not ever.
Bring on the mess!