under the pile

This past week I've been reading a new blog that I've found. Blogging and reading blogs has certainly become a hobby for me. It's fun, it keeps me positive about my life and being a mom and in general makes me happy. But this week as I stumbled upon this new blog (which by the way I am like a million people removed from this girl who lives down South, but like with most blogs, it's fun to spy on a complete stranger's life) and it brought me to the verge of depression. Honestly, I'm ashamed of myself on many fronts for this entire post- first off because what should have brought me to the point of depression and the whole reason I went and read this blog to begin with- her newborn daughter being rushed to the NICU and on the verge of death- is not the reason for my sadness. Instead, it is the ridiculously cute life that this girl leads that has made me depressed. My selfishness, pride and envy were all exposed as I've been peaking into her life.

There are photos of this girl during labor that are INSANELY cute. (Quite frankly, no one should look as lovely as she did during labor- NO ONE!) The day before she went to the hospital for her induction she posted with pictures the gift bags she had prepared for her nurses, the homemade monogrammed cookies (with her daughters initials) that were wrapped and tied with adorable bows and matching chocolate dipped pretzels that looked like cigars that were to be given to all of their visitors in the hospital. Even the blog itself is customized and amazing. She wrote about how the month before she was due people gave her the great idea to get a house cleaner to help lighten the load. She photoed and posted pictures of the sweet little monogrammed wardrobe that awaits her daughter when she does get home from the hospital, most of which had come as gifts. Thousands of people read her blog.

As I got done reading and was looking around my house (which I am so thankful for and think God has hooked us up with nice stuff - as if that is what is really important anyhow) I was in a funk. I can barely keep from breaking my neck as I trip on the toys in my path, or the dust bunnies from reaching out from under the sofa and pulling me under, or keep the laundry clean, folded and PUT AWAY. Most days I try to have my make up done, a reasonably fashionable outfit on and an interesting blog entry (at least one that I think is interesting) posted. But it all seemed to pale in comparison. I'm not cute enough, my house isn't clean enough or de-cluttered enough. Not only am I not baking gift bag treats or monogramming outfits, I'm lucky if I can get dinner on the table.

Then I just had to stop. Stop the madness. Comparison is such an evil trap. I love my life. Most days I am truly satisfied. Her blog has led me to hug my kids and appreciate them more this week than ever. The thought of having them near death or in a NICU, not being able to hold them or kiss them is horrible. So I've taken extra time this week to love them and kiss them. Each person is wired differently and uniquely and culture really does play an important role in how someone does life (Ohio and the deep South = not the same!) I probably will never wear pearl earrings- labor or no labor. I probably will never spend heaps of time making sure my shoes and other accessories are co-ordinating. Those things aren't bad and they aren't bad if they don't exist either.

I'm trying to give myself a break and embrace who I am. But I just might try and let my inner bow-head come out to play, I'll let you know how that goes.

ps this girl's baby is making slow but steady progress toward recovery and breathing on her own. It really has been fun to pray for a baby and a family I don't even know!