There are women who have tea sets and duvet covers and gingham sheets with throw pillows. They subscribe to Martha Stewart Living, bake religiously, and wear pearls. They have perfect children who make their beds and don’t talk back. They probably iron their husband’s shirts and preplan meals in Ziploc baggies and freeze them for the rough winter months.

I—on the other hand—will never be this organized. I fantasize about being the next Martha Stewart, but I was lucky I remembered to put lotion on my elbows before I left for church, let alone preplan meals, outfits, or ride share.

In case I delusionally believe I will one day make my own invites, grow my own organic rhubarb, or make homemade fondant designs, I remind myself…

…the last time I made a cake not from a Betty Crocker box was 1987
…the shirts in my ironing cabinet remind me dry cleaning was probably invented by a lazy woman
…the last hand-written note I wrote is still on my desk because I have forgotten to put a stamp on it
…the one time I planned out meals for the week and we ended up eating out 3 out of 5 days
…I was asked to bring a pasta salad to a barbecue yesterday and I ended up going to theย market and pawning it off as homemade
…the laundry ratio between me and my husband is 1:208
…I will never [mark my words] wear baby blue anything with a short strand of pearls

Instead of getting frustrated, I pride myself in the ability to make thee best Betty Crocker Funfetti cake while savoring the fact that though Martha is pretty much perfect, she’s also served time in prison for pilfering and embezzling. I remind my husband life could be sooooo much worse. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it too? ๐Ÿ˜‰

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