Upside Down

Last week I had a new friend over. We sat in the kitchen and had coffee and Pavlovas. It was a perfect afternoon. The kitchen was clean and homey. The sun was streaming through the dining room windows. The birds were chirping outside and all was right in my little corner of the world.

Until we walked into the living room. I am not kidding you when I say that the couch was upside down and backward. Literally. Why? Because the day before I had been on a frantic search for a small item that I thought might have been lost into the far reaches of the couch. The curtains were drawn and there were blankets, books, dishes, shoes and video games strewn all around the room. It was not my proudest moment. It didn't fit with the front I had created. It was a clashing symbol in the symphony of my morning.

Strangely, I didn't mind showing her. In fact I decided to show her so she would know that the kitchen was just a facade. That my real life was messy, disheveled, and harried just like every one else's. I am a real mom, with real messes, and a whole lot of living goes on in my living room.

I am going to go see my new friend today. I hope she doesn't knock herself out cleaning just for me. And I hope the coffee is hot and the conversation is lively. If I have to move a stack of papers off the chair, I will know it is because there is a whole lot of living that goes on in her house.