There is this certain kind of woman that always catches my eye. She's the mom who has it all together. Her ducks are in a perfect little row. She is never hurried. Her hair always looks amazing. Her teeth are always white. She's never emotional. She never sweats. She never forgets. Her messy buns are perfectly messy. Her yoga pants match perfectly with her sports bra and tennis shoes. I see her occasionally here and there. At target mostly. She looks happy. Her kids outfits always have matching bows and their socks always match. Their shoes are always tied. And their snacks are in coordinating colors. She is a unicorn.
She is my hero but not my reality. I sometimes daydream what it would be like, to be naturally organized, naturally good at everything. The kind of person that is never awkward or abrasive. But then I realize that there is no way that my idea of this woman is real.
She has to have hard days. Hard nights. Hard months. She has to burn dinner occasionally, or come home to raw chicken because she forgot to turn the crock-pot on. She has to miss the alarm sometimes. Or forget to put the laundry in the dryer. I'm sure she's hit a few squirrels or forgotten someones birthday. Her kids probably have a lunch balance just like mine because I can't remember to send the check. (seriously your lucky my kid made it there, why doesn't the school have PayPal again?)My idea of her is through a very small window. Life is always looks beautiful when your outside the photograph.
Comparison is the thief of all joy. Ain't nobody got time for that. Today as we gaze at the painting of someone else's life. Let's remember that what we see is a a still shot, and in the next moment they may need us to catch their naked toddler as they run screaming from the store bathroom. REAL QUEENS FIX EACH OTHERS CROWNS. Hers wont fit me anyway.