THE REALITY OF LIFE

Have you ever thought your life could be a reality show on television? This occurs to me quite often. 99% of the time that I sit down to write a post, I have no idea what I am going to say. I can practically see you guys opening up my blog and scratching your heads, "Where is she going with this?" Well, I usually post around my pictures because my camera is really my window to my world. And I had lovely pictures to share with you this morning from my weekend at the lake. But, as I type, I realize I try not to look around me when I get up in the morning...I pour a cup of coffee, forever grateful that we have some, give it a few generous heaps of Coffeemate French Vanilla creamer and sit down to read blogs or maybe write a post. Today I went to get my camera out of my purse and...no camera. I really dug around a while for it because if you have ever seen my purse, you would know that I could pack a weeks worth of clothes in it and still have room. No camera. It has to be at the lake. No camera, no pictures, no post. What would I do?
I grabbed my cell phone and thought, there has to be something I can take a picture of, make a pretty vignette and join a party maybe. I looked around and realized it was post weekend {we came home yesterday}. I was in the land of semi~adult children. As I mentioned earlier, I head for the coffee pot with blinders on and after I have blogged and had what I feel is my only connection with the adult world, I look around, have a little pity party and start the clean up. Post Weekends are always bad because I'm either not here or I do very little if I am here. Cleaning and fluffing that is. So I told myself this morning, after a mere 6 hours of sleep, that I would post and keep it real. I grabbed the cell for pictures, only to find the battery was dead {and yeah, I have a few important calls to make}. After I scratched my head and swore a bit, I gave it a little charge and started snapping pictures. So... welcome to my reality show.

I took pictures in black and white to soften the blow. Above is the corner of my bedroom and underneath it all is a pretty quilt rack with pretty blankets and quilts we love to curl up with. Except Abby existed solely in my room for the weekend, eating and drinking and watching The Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills. I'd love to be on that show except I would be the one without make up and an apron on. After arriving home late yesterday and putting my bag in my room, I tripped over a half dozen water bottles and paper plates and attempted to re~fluff the bed, my sanctuary. With the crumbs and dog hair, I needed a broom...on the bed. After making the bunch a delicious dinner of pasta, shrimp, salad and bread {I add this so you can join me in the "Why's}, I crawled into bed.
They made their breakfast and lunches for school I saw this morning. I knew exactly what they had and would be eating. Maybe that's why they leave it out..."See, Mom, a balanced breakfast and everything on the Food Pyramid."
I'll let the pictures do the explaining, I am almost ready to delete this but I'm on a roll. When they were small, it was so much easier to feed them out of the jar, wash their faces and toss the remains in the garbage. I used to keep their toys in a pretty wicker basket in the corner of the room and now I'm looking at 3 open laptops, several remotes and a few cell phone chargers in the outlets where I usually have my Glade Plug In's.

To further the scope of my reality world, I know for sure that downstairs I have at minimum, 11 loads of laundry. The garbage disposal is stopped up and not running {do I call a plumber or an electrician?}and I haven't heard from the carpenter since last week {don't people want work?}. I have a ton of weeds in the backyard and hedges to be trimmed, with a graduation party looming over me in a week and 1/2. The kitchen garbage is overflowing and I am getting ants in the dishwasher. Finally {maybe}, Layla pooped in the bathroom. Close, but no cigar.

I know I can sound like a Pollyanna. To take this conception further, let it be told that I had an idyllic weekend at the lake, the skies were clear, the birds were singing and I hummed as I made The Husband lunch with home grown tomatoes and grilled chicken. I sipped wine while I watched him skim along the bay in the kayak and I was at peace. Then I came back to my reality world.

I can sing the praises of my kids, but I won't. Today is a pity party. Through my tears I told Abby, yes, she could use my car because she was out of gas. And yes, I told Jeff, it was no big deal that he hadn't returned the tux from the wedding two weeks ago even though it is $20.00 per day late fee. For the most part I have a gentle voice and a smile on my face. I think it has nipped me in the a**.

Feel free to vent as much as you want in your comments. I would love the company. ;-D