Facebook can be a discouraging place for a mother. There we find pictures of uncluttered clean table with children in co-ordinated Pj's, with vibrant orange filled glasses of juice, a syrup drizzling pile of freshly made from scratch pancakes and wide breakfast filled smiles.
Cups, plates, spoons are awesomely co-ordinated and some rad retro decor or photo montage chills nonchalantly in the background.
But here is what is REAL.
Esther & Rachel, love to wear mummy & daddy's t-shirts instead of pajamas, so instead of the nicely folded Hello Kitty christmas pajamas in your drawers, you trundle in warm and sleepy eyed in oversized t-shirts and wild hair and the rising sun harshly greets us as it rise and beams though the blinds.
There is still a pile of books & papers haphazardly strewn across table from yesterday's homeschool lessons... why put them away when we will just pull it all out again tomorrow?
Joel sips from purple flowery cup oblivious to it's girly condition. I mean, he's a boy surrounded by sisters, so I think he is totally desensitized to girly stuff. I think he was chomping away at his 3rd or perhaps 5th orange of the morning.
I didn't homemake the french - toast. It came from a box from trader - joes (I will tell you how much i love that place sometime soon!). I will home cook better when we settle in better as a family of 6. But for now, they will survive with a box.
I have more chance of achieving the coveted mother - of - the - year award if I am not stressing myself over trying to cook an extra batch in tears because I burnt the last one distracted by one thing or another.
Rachel is absent from this picture, because every. single . meal she decides that she needs to go to the bathroom for about 20 minutes. She really does need to go, somehow seeing food on the table prompts that basic function.
We don't have co-ordinated plate, well, we might, but I just grab the ones closest.
This is life. This is real.
Perfect. Simple. Uncoordinated.
The kind of days I will miss & wish I would have cherished more when all my sweet babies are grown.