Heres some pretty photos from my Instagram account of Greenfields Farmhouse. Nice right? Clean white walls, a sense of calm, grown up bits and pieces, flowers in vases, homey touches and baked goods, cute kids playing together……..its all rather lovely and perfect

Except it isnt.

I posted recently on Instagram a picture of my newly re-arranged artworks and  sunny white walls and then as an after thought, posted a picture of the WHOLE living room. Dirty cups, toys, kids, clothes….everything you could think of scattered on the floor and coffee table. It was a reminder to myself to keep it real and not always fall down the rabbit hole that is pretty pictures of other peoples lives.
I often find that ive lost 30 minutes or more at bed time pouring over someones delicious images and imagining how that living approach or design style etc might fit into my life, and while I appreciate the aesthetic culture that defines instagram (that is my social media poison of choice), I keep constantly having to remind myself that more often than not we aren’t seeing the whole picture in that tiny square. I want my Instagram page to be pretty as much as anyones elses, so I truly get it but its also easy to forget. When the house is a total disaster and dirty dishes have been sitting in the sink for days. When theres a load of washing rotting in the machine and everyones entire wardrobes to fold and put away. When the kids are whiny, theres food on the floor and the walls, you havent been out of the house for days and the babys just rubbed strawberry jam all over my jumper…………that pretty Instagram page I lusted over the night before just makes me feel sad and dejected and I crave an injection of reality.

I want to see someone elses mess. So show me your Mount Washmore! Show me your toy scattered floors, the unwashed dishes and unmade beds!

Because that is family life right? It gets messy. The photos I post here and on Instagram are the tiny tidy parts of my life, the little moments in between the chaos and mess. I often have to remind myself that when I see perfect pictures of perfect lives on the internet, chances are what wasn’t in the photo was real life.

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