I came to a realization over Easter this year. A lesson that probably seemed obvious to anyone who knows us, but for some reason eluded me. Our life is messy. Our life is loud… very loud, chaotic, and at times difficult, exhausting, and confusing.

Backstory: I broke my foot while pregnant but didn’t discover this until Friday when I had X-rays done. It was a stress fracture from pregnancy weight, carrying children while pregnant, exercising without shoes while pregnant, etc. Anyway, I am stuck in a boot for 4 weeks until I go back to the doctor. Then, this morning I threw out my neck/upper back. It was awful. I could hardly move and getting the boys ready for church in my state of hobbling around with a broken foot and a stiff neck was less than pretty. When I physically couldn’t even get into the car, I decided to bow out and stay home with Owen, which proved to be difficult enough. I had gone through great lengths to pick out nice little outfits for the boys, get dressed up myself, and grab the camera with the intention of shooting a nice Easter photo with all four boys looking smartly at the camera and sitting still. This, my friends, did not happen. Instead, my boys flew through the door when they got home from church and flung their clothes off so they could have a water fight with their new water guns… thanks Easter Bunny 😉

The water fight ensued with shrieks of fury as William decided Nathan wasn’t allowed to shoot because the water was simply too cold. Nathan could have cared less about William’s protest and continued to blast him anyway. Eventually they all got into it and ran through the yard soaking wet and covered in dirt. Believe it or not, I hadn’t taken off my pretty dress because in the back of my mind I was still hoping beyond hope to get that perfect Easter picture of everyone. But once the water fight was finished, they decided to take their ribbons and have a “ribbon fight” on the trampoline in their underwear. It was at this point between my screams at them to keep it quiet and stop fighting with each other, I shot a couple of pictures of my two oldest while Owen slept peacefully and Colin scampered around the yard trying to decide if he was brave enough to get in the trampoline with my other two crazies.

After taking my pictures, I popped on Facebook for a few minutes. Immediately dozens and dozens of pictures of very nicely dressed children posing for pictures filled my page. I instantly began to feel bad and inadequate. My boys were anything but clean and nicely dressed and I was anything but composed and calm. I took a deep breath and realized there is just no use in pretending to have it all together. I don’t. Not even close. But look at these spirited ribbon-fighting kids. They’re mine. And if I were a kid again myself, I think I’d be having the time of my life on that trampoline. I took a deep breath, hung my dress back on the hanger and threw on some comfortable clothes. My life will never look polished and I don’t think I’ll ever quite measure up to the mom I want to be, but I’ll be damned if I ever feel bad about it again. Sometimes you don’t get the Rembrandt-type picture you wanted… but Picasso wasn’t too bad either.