Life, as we know it

I always thought I'd have a home that could only be described as 'Cottage Chic'. I imagined my children running around in the waning twilight wearing cotton and lace. They'd have brushed hair and clean little feet in the perfect lawn. I'd have a dog that never pooped and sat happily watching his family from the deep porch.

We'd eat rounded meals from matching dishes from an antique table lit by soft lights every night. Everyone would enjoy the meal and would smile and hold silly conversation while taking dainty yet hearty bites of their savory meat and fresh vegetables.

Then they'd happily clear their plates and the whole family would have a deep, philosophical discussion as we washed and dried all the dishes together. The children would give me sleepy smiles as they walked up the winding oak staircase to put on their matching pajamas. Jake and I would read them a classic bedtime story, just after we'd said beautiful and simple family prayers together. We'd tuck them into their beds under homemade quilts and give them a quiet goodnight kiss and close the door softly, because their room would have the beautiful light of the stars to keep away bad dreams.

At least that's how I always pictured it.

But reality is so much sweeter.

Nona dresses herself in pink polka dots and orange stripes. She wears yesterday's messy pigtails with pride, and frequently sports a mysterious blue eyeshadow.

Paul wears black socks and yellow converse. He always has paint or markers or glue stuck to his little grubby hands. He has a nasty old sweater that he wears with everything. It's been left out in the sun and bleached in the best tie-dye pattern, a motley red/orange.

Beau always has the remnants of a sandwich on his cheeks. Even if he hasn't had a sandwich for days, the jam and peanut butter just seem to stay on his face permanently. He likes to dress himself these days, which means Pauls pants on backwards, and they're always sliding down, and one of his shirts on inside out. He has one pair of shoes that he likes to wear, and they're 2 sizes too big.

My kids lives are sustained by ramen noodles and frosted flakes. They frequently sneak apples into bed because they didn't like/eat what we have for dinner.

Kamikaze Lagos live in my carpet. The dog sleeps on my bed. Jake brought me in a lilac clipping from the yard, just because. I find the kids all huddled in one bed like puppies because that's where they all wound up after I sang them a lullaby. Nona loves to set the table with ikea dishes, because they're all different colors. Beau likes to play cowboy with the dog, and together they round up cows and bad guys both. I have my own personal collection of custom artwork, and it all hangs on my fridge.

I frequently wake up with more people in my bed than I started with.

And you know what they say, the more the merrier.