Inside Out

On the way home from a very long day last week my husband turned to me and asked: “do I really have to go to ….(social engagement we were both waaaay too tired to attend).
I of course answered: ”Nope, I’m exhausted. Let’s skip it and go home!”
Husband: “I wasn’t really asking, I know I have to go…If you were a good wife, you’d tell me to go.”
Me: “If I was a good wife, I’d have homemade dinners every night, a beautiful garden, a really clean house and children with impeccable manners…and a lot of other stuff too.”
Husband: with a huge roll of his eyes “Oh my gosh … in what decade?”
Me: emphatically, “Right now, there are people who do it, I swear!”
Husband: “Like who? Name one!”
Me: “Well, this lady on the internet"
Husband: “Yeah, it happens so rarely for people that when it does, they post it on the internet. When it happens for you, you post it too”
Me: “No, some people just make it work all the time!!”
Husband: “You know you really are crazy.”

Yes, well I probably am. But this conversation got me thinking. I had seen a video on the internet that morning that had got me thinking along these lines. It was a beautiful twenty-something mom of four kids who had a video all about capturing “everyday moments.” She was beautifully dressed, had a great manicure, and a beautifully decorated home. The video showed her wiping down her immaculately clean kitchen counters and then photographing her well-dressed children who were playing in the middle of their completely clean bedroom. Just watching it, made me cringe when I thought about my messy, somewhat dressed children who were playing in their very messy rooms, while I was cleaning our very messy house (with my far inferior manicure!) And then it hit me. This “video” was on this woman’s website on which she was selling her particular scrapbooking system. Of course it looked perfect. It was a promotional video! I knew this in my rational mind all along, but my emotional mind was still quick to judge my real life not only by someone else’s standard, but by someone else’s staged standard.

I kept thinking about this throughout the day; wondering why I was so convinced that everyone else was doing a better job at what I perceive as my shortcomings. As I was walking up to our house just after dark, I realized that from the street with the lights in the living room on; I could see into our front windows. From the street perspective, all you can see is the top of the bookcases, a few of the pictures, and the lights. The impression was pretty nice. You can’t see the spots on the carpet, or the toys all over the floor, or the dirty dinner dishes still on the table. If you only see it from the outside looking in; you can imagine that the rest is really, really great. My rational mind knows that this is true of everyone. From a distance you can’t always see the tiny wrinkles or the small imperfections. I know that every life has its challenges and that no one makes it to the end without going through something that brings them to their knees. And yet…..I still sometimes fall into the trap of believing that everyone else is doing better than I am.

The next thing that came to mind was a quote that one of our former Relief Society presidents had shared with us at church. (I don’t have the exact source or quote – but I’ll give you the gist) She said that we should be thankful for our messy homes because they are a tangible reminder that our houses are full of life. And it’s true. If there were some horrible accident tomorrow, and I had no husband or little ones to mess up my house, I would have a beautifully clean home……and I would be utterly miserable.

My house is full of life. Wonderful, messy, real life. The kind of life that is two year olds and raspberries on tummies. The kind of life that is hectic mornings and lost homework and crying third graders trying to find their binder reminders on the way out the door. There are moments that I’m really good at being the mom. (really, really rare I know) And there are moments that I will never be proud of. There are hilarious moments and messy moments and moments full of vomit or poop. There are the moments that are completely mundane and full of laundry and more laundry and more laundry; and there are the moments I don’t like to remember when I’m sitting in an emergency room unable to get the smell of my child’s singed flesh out of my mind. There are moments of prayer and moments of peace and moments of sibling warfare. But they are my moments. And they make up my life. All of them.

Of course they are going to look different from the outside. I try very hard to make it look as nice as I can. But, it helps a lot when you can’t see the messy parts on the floor. Every real life has messy parts. Parts we don’t want to be judged on. And mine are probably different from yours. My triumphs and struggles are uniquely mine. But I guess I’m coming to understand that we all have them. That is the great common denominator. Everyone’s house looks different when you’re on the street outside looking in.