I was reading a blog that nicely addressed the tendency for us to sometimes compare ourselves with fellow bloggers.

So, I started thinking . . .

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have such wisdom and insight?”

She’s earned that on her knees and over her bible, through the blood, sweat, tears, heartache, and experience of life.

“Look at her weight loss meter – must be nice.”

But it wasn’t easy.

“Her husband must be perfect.”

Yeah right!

“I wish I had 6 children.”

But she miscarried 4 before she had 6.

“I wish I only had 1 child.”

She worked for 10 years with a fertility specialist to conceive that baby.

“Her house looks perfect.”

The children were camping with Grandma and Grandpa for the weekend, she had 48 hours to clean and enjoy before they returned full of muddy shoes, stinky socks, smoke laden laundry, and back packs that need napalm.

Do any of those sound familiar?

So, confession time.

I’ve blogged about going to Quilt Market.

I get to go by a generous mother, rolling of pennies, and the grace of God.

I’ve blogged about working on the guest room.

We’ve lived here for 5 years; this is the first we’ve gotten to it!

I’ve blogged about our library that looks like a magazine photo.

You conveniently can’t see the office that sits to the left of the sewing cabinet.  It is NEVER clean AND orderly at the same time.  Notice, you also did NOT get a picture of when that sewing cabinet is open and there are a zillion bits and pieces of thread and scrap spread over half the library!  You also can’t see the tumblehair (when you live in Arizona, you get tumbleweed rolling across the freeway.  When you life in Arizona with a Golden Retriever, you get tumblehair rolling across the hall) that blows in circular billows down the hall when the air conditioning kicks on.  Oh, and I won’t mention the carpet shampooer sitting around the corner that hasn’t been emptied even though I used it a week ago.   (YUCK!)

I’ve blogged about a fantastic trip with dear family.

It was hotter than – well – hot, three VERY long days, and Mr. L hadn’t seen his cousin since before they both lived in Communist Poland.  Oh, and Mr. L's parents picked up the bill.

I’ve blogged results of the ‘How Ladylike Are You?’ quiz.

While I’m ‘92% ladylike’, what they aren’t telling you is that last 8% packs a .40 caliber shot of non-diplomatic, idealistic, opinionated, sarcasm from one who hates to scrub the toilet and would do anything other than clean the fish tank.

So, what’s my point?

If it looks enviable, it’s because of what the camera angle is NOT revealing.  It’s because you’re only getting PART of the story, and it’s not the down and dirty part.  It’s because Satan is getting a foot hold.

Be encouraged, be happy for each other, and tell Satan to take a hike.

Off to empty the carpet shampooer,

Mrs. L

(OK, OK, I’m going to finish a sewing project – THEN I’ll clean the shampooer . . . maybe!)

Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . I know . . . I changed it again.

First, I loving rearranging furniture, the house, rooms, anything that has been still for more than a few months is fair game.

The girls have had as their bedroom, each of the three secondary rooms in the house in the five years we’ve lived here.  Also . . .

what was once the sewing room is now the guest room.

what was once the guest room is now the new children’s’ room.

what was once the living room is now the living/tv room.

what was once the family/tv room is now the library .

So, don’t be surprised when the blogature around here gets rearranged too.

Second, the direct links weren’t linking, and I only know enough HTML to get myself into trouble – not enough to fix the trouble once I’m in it!  J  So, I’ll stick with a standard template for now, with a few extras in the side bar.  Maybe I’ll get adventurous another time.

Staying out of HTML trouble,

Mrs. L