Life Is Good. But It Ain't Perfect, That's for Sure

It has recently come to my attention that one of my readers thinks my life is perfect. I try to keep it real around here. I apologize if my writing has presented a false image of perfection around here. We are the SANATORIUM, after all. Things are always crazy and never perfect.

I yell too much. I sleep in too often. I neglect exercise too frequently. I occasionally spank and repeatedly send offenders to the corner. Piano practice is a challenge, fixing dinner an ever-present grind.

I do try to dwell on the positive—who would want to dwell on the negative all the time? My kids truly are brilliant, funny and beautiful. My family is the center of my life, and my life is good. Good, yes. Perfect, no.

Tomorrow, I challenge you to post a real day. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Images appreciated but not required. I’d love to see what you really look like at the grocery store. I’d like to know your real-life discipline. Do you go crazy every afternoon like I do and devour every carb in sight? Or are you a “hide in the bathroom till the chaos passes” kind?

I’m not talking about divulging deep dark flaws here. We really don’t want to know those things. But those things that make you real. Not Barbie-of-the-Blogs. Not Crafty-Queen. Not Fashionista-du-jour. The real you. The one that draws us back to your blog again and again. I’m prepared to let down my guard a bit. And I’ll show you the real Sanatorium. Messes, arguments, imperfection and all.

Ready to join me in this revolution? Link your post Wednesday.

We’re all anxious to meet the real you.

See you tomorrow.