It seems especially fitting since I've been blogging about photography all week.
I want to start out by talking about our dining room. It is actually the one room in our house that has yet to be taken over by kid stuff (with the exception of a Little People Disney princess castle that sits on the floor because there is nowhere else for it to go).
The dining room has been my favorite room for that very reason. It often feels like the only connection I have to my former life. The one when I used to host dinner parties and have a social life. Wear nice clothes. When I could actually take a shower, style my hair and put on makeup. Every day.
Many times, when people come to our home, they marvel at the fact we have a, "grown up room." If I wanted to show you the Slice of Perfect, I might use an image like this:
Isn't that lovely? Of course, I purposely left the castle out of those shots:
Kind of changes the mood. And let's not even talk about how many times I have stepped on one of those @&*#ing princesses late at night, m'kay?
Lately, my daughter has fallen in love with Legos. And I have found the dining room table is the best place for her to build with them. They don't work on the carpet well, and our coffee table is too small. So when she wants to build, I clear the dining room table and let her go to town.
It's basically the only time the table is ever used, save the holidays. If I wanted to show you a Slice of Perfect, I'd crop in close and go with something like this:
Sweet, isn't it? She could play with Legos for hours, which is great. The result is, this is what my dining room looks like much of the time now:
A pile of Legos can sit there for days, forgotten, until I finally convince her to put them away. She might build a zoo, or a city, and my dining room becomes a mini-metropolis for a period of time. That is the Messy Reality. And the truth is, I love it.
Why should the dining room sit unused and untouched? Why shouldn't she take advantage of the space to let her imagination soar? I can't think of a single good reason. And at least I can't step on Legos on a table!
Now, my sanctuary in this home is my bedroom. It is also my office, and when I participate in video chats or host Google+ Hangouts On Air, I make sure the room is immaculate. This is the Slice of Perfect I put on display for those occasions:
I use a desktop computer, so I have no option but to record from my bedroom. Of course, it always looks just like this. (Insert sarcasm font here.)
In reality, every day my daughter does this to our bed the moment I have made it:
She calls it her, "nest." And you know what? It looks more Slice of Perfect to me than Messy Reality. She is, after all, pretty darn cute. But when she's moved on, my "perfect" bed looks like this:
Not quite the image I normally project. Of course, if I really wanted to be realistic, I would have thrown a pile of dirty laundry on the end of the bed for good measure.
If I were to show you the true Slice of Perfect from this scene, it would look something like this:
Yep, she can pretty much always convince me to snuggle up with her. I mean, how boring is a perfectly made bed, anyway? Of course, it will be interesting to see when I crawl in there tonight what toy ends up jabbing me in the back or side...
What else am I not showing people? If I really wanted to highlight the Ross Family Messy Reality, I could take photos of the urine and feces our dog leaves on the kitchen floor Every. Single. Time. We. Leave. The. House.
But I like you nice people too much to subject you to that.
It's left an image in your head you'd like to forget though, hasn't it? I'm sorry. Kittens. Think about kittens. Here...
Is that better? Now, off you go! Have a nice day! And remember to enjoy your own messy realities. Because they are what the best of life is really made of!