This Is Real Life

This Is Real Life

Can I level with you? This morning, well it just has not been good. Cyrus woke up at 3:30, and after getting him back down, I spent the next hour with my head next to the toilet praying for relief. After a couple of hours of decent sleep, I spent a good chunk of the morning curled up on the couch with an empty, queasy stomach. Cyrus decided to skip his nap yesterday, which means today he has been a total delight. Two timeouts, and an exceptionally early naptime later, and I’m just now sitting down to write this blog that I was hoping to have written and scheduled to post like three days ago. (Currently winning at life, over here.)

Here’s the thing. I am not a pessimist, nor do I  consider myself a complainer, but my desire has always been to speak honestly. And sometimes honesty means sharing the not-so-glamorous moments of motherhood and of life. This has been a weird semester for me because senioritis has hit so hard. And while, by the grace of God, I get to walk across the stage a week from tomorrow, the reality is that I still have 12 hours worth of summer courses to complete. And that is incredibly daunting. Stress has stuck to me like a magnet these past few weeks and my body has felt the effects and not responded kindly.

In a world that is looking for something real to hold onto, I think honesty is the best place to begin.

This is the side that doesn’t get posted in cute, little, curated squares on Instagram because it is not pretty. But in a world that is looking for something real to hold onto, I think honesty is the best place to begin. I love so much about my life, about being a wife and a mom and an aspiring artist. But some days are hard, plain and simple. Sure, some days are filled with homemade popsicles and prayer walks, and all sorts of impressive, photogenic moments (and I LOVE getting to write about those moments).

But something I find myself guilty of, that I often silently criticize in others, is the shoving under the rug of the rest of life. The massive pile of laundry that has needed folding for two days and keeps getting moved from place to place because ain’t nobody got time for that nonsense. The many meltdowns of a two-year-old who feels deeply and often and cannot emotionally separate the difference between not getting to watch another episode of Dinotrux from a death in the family. The snide remarks we make toward our spouses or people we love because they just drive us so crazy sometimes. (Like really, is it THAT hard to put the cup in the sink when you’ve gone through all the trouble of setting it directly next to it? I love you, Matt.)


These moments make up a lot more of our day to day than baking homemade, organic pie squares with our perfectly behaved children or attending indie festivals and road-tripping the U.S with a paper map and a camera that still uses film. But by the looks of so many feeds, we would have ourselves believe that life really is that idealistic for some. And others, like ourselves, simply couldn’t be so lucky. So, here’s my messy, uncurated, behind-the-scenes. It’s dreary and gray and it will be a win if I put on anything other than these ugly sweatpants today. I’m going to try super hard to be productive in all the things, but between you and me, I’ll probably end up watching too many episodes of the Office.


But  I still wouldn’t have it any other way. My life may be far from perfect, but it is real and honest. And because I know everyone has their own battles to fight. Sometimes the ones who look the most together on the outside are the ones experiencing the most darkness behind the scenes. At some point, you have to ask yourself who you are trying to impress. My life isn’t extravagant, and it most certainly is not always picture-worthy, but it’s mine and it’s beautiful. And I would take raw and gritty over perfect and picturesque any day.

So here’s to all the moments that didn’t make the cut for the world to see. These moments are hard, and monotonous, and hilarious, and personal. And they are what make us human.


♥ Alyssa




To The Mother Hearts

To The Mother Hearts

Welcome To The Porch

Welcome To The Porch