Last week, John’s brother, sis-in-law, and two kiddos–ages 4 and 7–visited from Maryland to meet Violet.
Cooper loved having guests, primarily because the 7-year-old was willing to play Cooper’s favorite game, “Chase me but don’t catch me!”
He picks up a toy and runs. He loves to be pursued. He doesn’t really want to be caught. Our nephew was more than happy to chase Cooper–legit trying to catch him, I think, but Cooper is fast and pretty wily–around the house in circles for three straight days.
The kids were obsessed with Newt, too. I’ve noticed kids become fascinated by her. She’s a mysterious little critter, which captivates children. Newt, of course, does not feel the same way.
By the time they left, our three little herd members were wiped. (As was I!)
One thing totally stuck with me, though, that I’ve been thinking about since Saturday. Sitting around chatting with my sister in law, she mentioned how when she was a new parent, she felt like no one was talking about the tough parts, which makes it feel like you’re the only one struggling. (“My kid can’t be the only kid in the world who never, ever, ever sleeps?!”) And, she pointed out, social media makes it so. much. worse.
Everyone puts their glossiest foot forward.
The perfectly-posed holiday photo (subtly matching plaid woven throughout the outfits, obvi), the pet sitting nicely in his Halloween costume, and then–of course–the styled “silly” photo that’s portrayed as an “outtake.”
Fast forward to Monday afternoon.
The weather was perfect, so we figured we’d take Cooper and Violet to the nearby trails for an evening hike.
A decent-enough pic.
I started to post it on Instagram (“Fun family hike!”), and then I remembered the conversation with my sister-in-law and changed my mind.
Well, for starters, when we got to the park and parked, Violet spit out her pacifier, and I didn’t notice, so we started to walk without it. The horror.
Also, we weren’t 10 feet from the car when Cooper dove head first into a whole lotta poison ivy. John’s super allergic, so getting the potential oil off of Cooper became a Thing, which meant were weren’t in motion, which meant Violet started to cry.
So, we got going, only to stop literally another 10 feet further down for Cooper to have a sort of “off” poo.
By this time, we’ve gone back to the car three times: once for wipes to clean up Cooper, once for Violet’s pacifier, and once for wipes to clean up Cooper.
Once we got on the actual trail, I had to put Violet’s sun hat on her because it was still SO sunny, and that was, apparently, the last straw.
She. lost it.
As did Cooper at about the exact same second because from the two trails shooting off from the main one we were on, dogs appeared. Coming at us from both trails. At the same time.
That’s it. We’re done.
We walk back to the car, and I mentioned that I had wanted to get a hiking pic. Sigh.
So, we posed that one literally standing in front of the car. In the parking lot.
Then we drove home.
In total, we were in the car longer than we were at the park.
A couple weeks ago, a friend had said something like, “How are you keeping it all together?”
Answer: I’m not.
No one is!
But social media sort of makes you feel like everyone else has it altogether, you know? Because you know your stuff is hanging by a thread, but then you open Facebook, and it breeds comparison… but, really, you’re comparing your truth to someone else’s glossy post.
Happy Fourth, y’all.