Holly In Real Life

So I decided to do this little 'air your dirty laundry' thing like everyone else is doing. Let me be honest with you: I didn't feel like I had to do this to prove anything, but I did think it would be a fun challenge for me to post a hideous picture of myself on my blog.

Thanks to Stie and Jessica for the inspiration.

Here's the ugly Holly in all her glory. And if you're thinking to yourself, "why, Holly's hair looks a bit greasy and her roots look bad!" Well, that's because it was and they do. Let me just say for the record, that I could only get this picture the size it is now or GIGANTIC. I spared you all from seeing the dirt in my pores and did the size it is now. I couldn't get a medium or else I would have.

A few bad qualities of mine:
I'm not terribly interactive with my kids. If I try really hard I can be, but I have a better time when they do their own thing and learn to play by themselves. Obviously, this doesn't work all the time, but when it does I'm happy. I try to think of it as a way to 'help themselves grow and play on their own' to make myself feel better about not wanting to get down on the floor and play board games that end in fighting and rule explaining.

I'm not a decorator. I don't have too many items in my home that I'm extra proud of. I continually find myself feeling inadequate when I see other people's homes and their ability to decorate and make things cute. And I have virtually NO holiday decor besides Christmas.

I have spent many years of my life with a bad self-esteem. High School was the worst. I've mentioned before that I didn't get asked to the prom, but what I haven't mentioned is that I wasn't surprised. I didn't feel deserving of that kind of attention and I certainly didn't feel pretty enough to attend. I'm happy to say I'm lightyears ahead of where I was then. Although it is still a struggle for me to ALWAYS feel great about myself, turning 30 was epic for me. What you see is what you get and there really aren't too many surprises since I wear my feelings on my sleeve. I am finally in a place where I'm happy in my own skin and accept my flaws as much as possible.

My drawers are cluttery, my kitchen doesn't get mopped nearly enough, I don't have incredible organization skills and sometimes I'm downright lazy.

Although I have been known to cook certain things that people enjoy, it's simply because I can follow a recipe. I am not a cook, chef or baker. And I certainly don't cook dinner every night. Many nights we have cold cereal or mac n' cheese from a box. If you give me a recipe that requires too many ingredients to buy or too many steps in the kitchen for prep, there is no way I'm going to make it. I count it as a true blessing that I'm married to someone who truly doesn't care if I make dinner or not.

I pick at my face continually and did so right before my ugly picture was taken. It's a bad habbit that I don't know how to break. Pick, pluck, pick, pluck. Pick.

I eat breakfast every morning in front of the computer instead of with Levi in the kitchen.

Somtimes I yell. And sometimes I really 'lose it' when I yell and it ain't pretty. I'm doing better, but it's a really big effort because I really lack patience in all forms.

My whole family knows me as one who likes to be waited on. It's true. I'm a bit selfish and at potlucks, I really like to be first in line so I can be sure I get all the stuff I want. Many nights John will have just come upstairs to bed and I'll ask him to go get me something from downstairs.

When I split something in half with someone else, I usually take the biggest piece.

I really struggle to be consistant. Sometimes I'm really good about keeping my room clean, my bed made, and my bathroom counters cleared, but sometimes I'm just not. I always feel guilty after I harp on Levi to make his bed and at the end of the day I find I never made my own.

I very often make a huge mess in the bathroom. Hairspray, hair, products, makeup.

But on a happy note....

Sometimes I don't and I even use one of those disinfectant wipes to clean off all the hairspray and product residue. So, you see? I'm not that bad.

Oh, and I always have to end on a happy note.