I recently spoke to a work colleague about social media and how they personally did not tend to post anything because they didn’t have anything that they considered as interesting to anybody else going on. They didn’t have children. With this conversation it hit me that not only do I post up a huge amount of pictures of my children but I also make it not only seem like my life is interesting but that it’s some sort of fairytale happy. Don’t get me wrong I am happy, I have a loving partner, two wonderful children,a giant chocolate Labrador and a very fat ginger cat, but in the same day I can have a partner that drives me round the twist, two children that push me to my breaking point, a dog that poops in the dinning room and a cat that won’t come in when called, but I rarely post about that. The reality of our lives is much different to what we let other people see and when they do see what’s really happening it can be viewed as embarrassing, like I’m about to get embarrassed that I sometimes fantasise about killing my boyfriend. Here are some of the things you didn’t see:
George got into a right state putting on his sleep suit, I nearly cried and Millie refused to get out of the bath because she’d get cold, instead she stayed in it sobbing whilst I tried to explain I needed her to get the fuck out. I screamed, everyone cried.
So I am happy, I am in love, I am at times a big fat lie teller.