The Bad and The Ugly

My pretend friend Christie  (she's my pretend friend because I read her blog and even though I've never met her in person, I want to) wrote a post on her blog about our real selves vs. our blog selves.  She encouraged her readers to write a post revealing their less varnished, more real selves...down to the photo with no make up.

While I do occasionally record a bit of a pity party here, I usually post The Good.  I only pick pictures to post of myself that are passable; I only pick pictures to post of my house that are clean-ish.  Kind of like how I tidy up before my visiting teachers come over.  It's all about tricking people into thinking you're better than you are.

I'll take the challenge though.

Here's my picture:

So in addition to the jumbled school room clutter in the background, here I am.  No make-up and disheveled hair.  Sadly, that's not much different than when I do have make-up on and have done my hair (or tried to).  Neither make-up, hair or looking photogenic are in my realm of expertise.

And here are the confessions that I have to make...the real things.

The inside of my car is almost always a mess and I really don't care that much.

I love organizing things. I am lousy at keeping things organized.

I ate the chocolate covered cherries Janet gave me for Christmas one after the other and didn't tell my children or Adam that we even had them.

I can be cranky.  Really cranky.  And sarcastic.  Really sarcastic.

I never ever want to eat breakfast with my children and rarely do.  I don't want to talk to anyone first thing in the morning.

I haven't balanced my bank statement for years and years.  Numbers like that make me feel quaky.

I don't take criticism well.

If given the choice to read, write, home school, or work on some creative project,  I will always choose that over house work.  And you can tell.

While my house will always look fairly clean if I know you're coming over, I leave laundry in the dryer until there's another load ready to go in.  If my dishes won't fit in the dishwasher, they have to wait until the next load.  I'm not hand washing them.

(and I was raised better than that)