My Non-Instagrammable Life
I don’t have perfect lighting in my apartment.
I don’t have the pretty porcelain plates that I wish I had.
I don’t have great angles in every picture we take. My postpartum bald spots still show, and my clothes sometimes sit awkwardly on my rib cage that I swear expanded in a weird way when I was pregnant.
My kid has a grimy nose and sometimes his outfits are mismatched. Sometimes my living room floor is messy and the furniture from Goodwill that I picked out from two summers ago drags the general aesthetic down.
But you know what? I kind of don’t care anymore. I used to be paranoid about blasting my sometimes bland, sometimes messy, sometimes not so glamorous life on social media. Now that I think of building memories with my kid, and making moments that will exist only in our wild mid-twenties, I have become totally okay with the fact that my life doesn’t look like inside of a Gap catalog.
So behold my life in all its precious and irreplaceable and messy and beautiful bits!
(This is how we make the most of family days: brunch, which we quickly saved from Leo’s grabby hands, relaxing in pajamas, a walk at the zoo with friends, and a makeshift picnic on the couch.)