THAT kind of blogger.

Or, "My philosophy of blogging."

I've alluded a couple of times now to "that" kind of blogger. I've briefly explained what I meant by it, but never elaborated much. After going into greater detail in a comment on another blog, I feel like I should go into greater detail on here, as well.

There is another blog I read and have read for years. (I suspect several of you will know who I'm talking about, but it's not particularly important.) The woman is a SAHM, she homeschools, makes her own bread, buttermilk, yogurt, and some kind of bizarre mushroom tea. She's read the Bible 18+ times, she works out for at least an hour every day. She makes everything from scratch, her house is immaculate, her children brilliant. She loves her husband and children always and is never in an ill mood. She has JOY, darn it. What's the point of being in a bad mood? It doesn't help anyway.

You get the picture? The very rosy picture?

For far longer than I'd like to admit, I compared myself to this blogger and held myself to her ridiculous standards. One day, though, for whatever reason, it dawned on me: no one's life is that perfect. Blogging, for better or for worse, enables you to censor your life. Or, make it up entirely, for that matter. If I wanted to, I could make my life out to be peaches and cream. Heck, to the blogging word, I could be the wife of a Venezuelan soccer player. But who would I be benefiting?

I don't delude myself into believing that I have dozens of readers who hang on my every word, nor do I fancy that anyone looks up to or aspires to be like me. But at the same time, I also know how very easy it is to read someone's blog and think to yourself, "If she can do all that, why can't I?" I never want anyone to leave here feeling guilty or inadequate because of something I wrote.

So, in the interest of being open and honest, let me clear the air:

I keep a generally tidy, well-organized house.....but today my bed didn't get made until after supper.

I love to cook homemade meals from scratch for my family....but some nights I'm lazy and order a pizza.

I love my children very much and wouldn't trade them for the world....but there are some days when I say, "I'm going to sell you to the gypsies!" and mean it.

I love my husband more than anything or anyone on earth....but if I have to pick up his wet towels one more time, I'm going to strangle him with it.

I consider myself a basically happy person....but there are days when I wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

Getting the idea?

That's me. The real me. For better or for worse, I'm only human. My bathtub is dirty, I'm never going to homeschool, I buy bread most of the time, I snap at my husband, and I yell at my kids. And right now I should be doing my dishes instead of blogging.

I'm never going to be SuperMom or SuperWife and it's silly to try. I'm doing the best I can, with what I've got. That's all I, or any of us, can do.

And there you have it. Why I will never be THAT kind of blogger.