A post on being open, honest and real. (and my personal quest to end perfectionism)

So, here are some images of my house...

Above, my horrible mess of a foyer.

Above, two images of my kitchen (please pity me for having to deal with honey oak)

Above, my living room.

And above, a bird's eye view from the balcony, which I have taken a minute to label for you.

I am sharing these with you not to cause disgust and horror, but to be real. My house is clean 45% of the time. I spend most of my days trying to stay on top of the mess, mostly failing miserably. The dishes get done, and the laundry gets clean, but it seems that I rarely pick up all the toys or have a mess free flat surface in my house to speak of. Mind you, I have four children. Their ages are 10, 8, 4, and 2 1/2. Now school is out. My house was neat about a week ago. As soon as school let out, it was like an explosion went off. Keeping up with their needs and wants is a hell of a job, let alone keeping the house clean. When I photograph images in my home, I do it in very particular areas. I take the images at angles where you can only see what I want you to see. The white table that I do a lot of my still life images on is rarely ever free of crayons, papers, glue, and a random plate that had cereal, or crackers, or chicken nuggets on it. I wanted to be honest. I have regular responsibilities and a mostly normal existence. I have 5 people to look after besides myself, and 3 cats. I take time in the evenings, or at nap time to do things like crochet, draw, or take photos. I schedule photo shoots on the weekends, and you can usually hear my dryer running at midnight. When I see home tours on my favorite blogs, I can only assume that the owners of the spectacular spaces don't have any kids- and if they do, they have help with cleaning and such-- or, my favorite option, is that they spend a crazy 2 days before the photos were taken cleaning like madwomen (or men) to make their home look perfect.
I would love to have my house in perfect order at all times, but that would mean it wasn't lived in. And that's what are homes are for right?
So there you have it. A humbling, slightly cringe-worthy look into what my house looks like most of the time. The secret's out. I'm not perfect.