The Whole Picture
Jessica Glaze • Jan 23, 2015
A few months back I started to write a post about Instagram, about how fake it is, about how I personally know a “popular insta mom” and I know that her pictures portray something that is not the truth. I sat at my desk fired up and determined to put out on the internet the truth about social media. But nothing good comes from putting other people down, so I saved the draft and never went back to finish it, until now.
I first want to say that I love social media. I wouldn’t call myself addicted or say that I have FOMO (fear of missing out, lol) but I am a little obsessed with my kids and love to share all about them and their accomplishments. I especially love social media because for all of my adult life I have lived far from my family and it the best way to keep everyone updated on our lives. Lets face it, personal phone calls would be nice but who wants to talk to me while I have two loud toddlers running around, demanding my attention. Social media is a free and easy way to stay in constant contact with loved ones even when we live hundreds, or at times, thousands of miles away. But here comes the honesty, what you see on social media… LIKELY ISN’T REAL!
Instagram and Facebook has tricked us into believing that a 2″ x 2″ picture tells the whole story. All day long I look at little square pictures posted by random moms of their perfectly designed homes, hipster children, Pinterest worthy meals, and their teeny tiny selves. (My favorites are the ones when the moms look like they didn’t know someone was taking their picture but we all know it was a self timer.)
It’s crazy how we can feel like we know so much about some mom or her family just by seeing a few choice pictures that are posted each week. We use her Instagram posts or Facebook posts as a ruler to measure our own quality of life. We tell ourselves; “I wish my husband was as sweet as hers.” “I wish I could keep my house as clean as she does.” “Why can’t I lose my baby weight?” “Her family is amazing.” “Her life is a dream.”
Instagram isn’t real life. Facebook isn’t real life. It is very easy to fit what we want the world to see inside of a 2″ x 2″ box and leave all of the ugly out. It’s easy to post a beautiful picture of your husband kissing your baby and forget to mention the screaming match you were in last night. It’s easy to post a picture of your weekly shopping trip and forget to mention you are drowning in debt.
I am guilty of both sides. I have posted pictures that would imply my life is drama free while knowing the truth. I have also sat around thinking, “Why can’t we be that perfect?”
I recently had someone tell me that Rusty and I were an “amazing and inspiring parenting team.” (Cue the blushing cheeks.) I love that compliment. I think that Rusty and I are doing a pretty awesome job. If I can take a second to brag, I have never left the house without getting a compliment on how well behaved my kids are or how cute they are dressed, and its an awesome feeling. But what my dear friend doesn’t know, is that just moments before she commented on how inspiring we are, I was crying in my car screaming, “I fricken hate Canada.” And although the Glaze Brigade does eat 95% of our dinners at our kitchen table as a family, last night I pouted while doing dishes, my husband pouted on the couch with his iPad and the kids ate alone.
So, the next time you look at an Instagram or Facebook post and feel that sting of jealousy, think about what might have been cropped out of the picture.
Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose.
Four kids, I have four kids! Sometimes (well, every day if I’m being honest) I have to remind myself that I have FOUR kids to be responsible for. If I’m not forgetting to keep an eye on my mischievous 2-year-old, then I’m walking out the door for dinner without dropping a jar of baby food into my bag. (Fries for dinner never hurt anyone, right? That’s what Mr. August survives on once a week at least.) Life as a parent can be chaotic sometimes. #thisisparenthood Thank God my two older kiddos are basically self-sufficient otherwise we would never be able to leave the house. Being responsible for four other human beings (Sometimes five if my husband is in town, am I right ladies?) is so hard!
It’s no secret that I am no fan of winter. If you live up north like we do now, you know just how cold, cold is and I can barely survive the frozen temperatures. Even though I would happily leave behind the cold, but there is nothing I love more than Thanksgiving and Christmas! Best holidays of the year, hands down!
It has been three years since we left behind our life in California. Three years since we made the announcement that we were moving to Canada. Three years since we started a new adventures as immigrants in a country that is so close to home, yet so very different. And now, after three life changing years, we are on to our next adventure.
Eli is 5.5 months old, rolling left to right and every other which way, so that means it’s time to ditch the swaddle. *Que the ugly cry.* If you didn’t know, we love swaddling in our home. Rusty and I can count the number of times we have ever had to wake up more than twice a night with one of the three kiddos on our fingers and we thank swaddling for that luck. We start swaddling from day one and we use that as a basis to establish great sleep habits from the beginning that last forever. Sadly, once the skill of rolling is learned, it is no longer safe to swaddling and the transition from swaddled to un-swaddled can be rough. Thankfully, we found the Nested Bean sleep sack this time around and the swaddled/un-swaddled transition has gone perfectly smooth.
The Glaze Brigade spent the second to last official weekend of summer (which is kind of a joke because summer never actually arrived here in the GTA) at Center Island and we loved it! I’m actually a little bummed that we have lived here for 3 years and only just decided to make the trip on the ferry over to the island.
We are just three weeks away from the start of the next school year and I am so not ready! There is nothing I love more than the freedom of summer. No school schedules to follow, flexible bedtimes, endless weekend adventures, and daily trips to wherever we can get some sunshine. Sadly, all of that is about to end and I am already planning our next summer.
Since moving to Toronto, the best part of summer is getting outside. Our days are usually filled with trips to the playground, our near by amusement park, riding our scooters around the neighborhood, or taking a fun road trip, but even in the summer, there are days we are stuck inside. Sometimes we spend those rainy days cuddled on the couch, watching a movie and eating junk food, but another fun rainy day activity we enjoy is visiting our local mall.
I was just a little surprised to learn that Carter would be starting kindergarten, at the ripe old age of 3, just a few months after moving to Canada. I considered putting her in a preschool a few days a week, but never did I think I would be sending her to an all day, every day, kindergarten class in a school that holds kids up to the 8th grade. Cue the mommy freak out. Of course, Carter loved it and I had nothing to do worry about.
My middle child, Monroe, was born with a severe tongue tie, it was actually so severe that he couldn’t swallow. For the first week of his life, we had no idea that his entire tongue was attached to the bottom of his mouth (behind his bottom gums), but over and over again he would choke and sometimes even turn blue. Rusty or I or a nurse would have to suction his airway to get things cleared out. It was the scariest time for me as a parent.
Facebook is filled with groups of moms complaining about the lack of help they get from their husbands. Either dad has never changed a diaper, he doesn’t help pick up toys, dad doesn’t help discipline, or he flat out cannot keep the kids alive if he is left alone. I understand that it can be completely frustrating to get no help from the one person that should be helping you the most, so I am going to share with you a few tips that I’ve used to encourage my husband to be a hands on dad.