Picture this: I am serenely sitting in my pristine house, knitting on my next project. It was started yesterday and I will finish it tomorrow (though all other knitters are taking a month or more to complete it). Being dressed in a trendy, yet classic outfit that is newly pressed, I am comfortable and looking good. The sun is a casting her rays through my spotless windows on to my lap, where my knitting rests. A soft baby lullaby plays in the background; I smile and turn to look at my lovely jewel of a baby sleeping in the bassinet next to me. She gently stirs, coos, and then returns to blissful dreams. All the while I knit. Truly the perfect picture.
Reality: My house looks like a bomb has gone off. Glasses, food and toys lay every where. All traces of knitting have been placed high and away because the sight of them makes me sad. There are umpteen projects in various stages of completion that are nowhere near the end (though all other knitters have completed the same projects months ago). I am in a semi-comatose state, with baby spit up on my holey sweatshirt and ripped jeans. BTW - if you could smell me, well . . . let's just say a bath in the last 24 hours hasn't happened. The snow is more than a foot deep and the temperature could freeze the *&!#% off a witch. We haven't seen sun in weeks! I'm not sure how we would as my windows are a filthy blend of finger prints, dirt and ice. Wall-e plays on the DVD player, while RM and I play Rock-Paper-Scissors to see who is going to change Bean's dirty pants. Did I mention that she can cry . . . LOUD? Truly the picture of reality.
While I make it sound terrible, I do love my family. We have a lot of fun and I wouldn't trade them for love or money. They are my life. My lovely, average, normal life.
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Well, I lost at Rock-Paper-Scissor . . .
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