about 3.4 times per day, i take in the cluttered chaos of our home and say to myself, “man, this place is a shit hole!” the national average for mothers is actually quite a bit higher (ten times per day). sometimes it pays to have a high tolerance for filth.

but no matter how often i am affected by domestic dissaray (actual DSMIV term?), it always comes with a sense of personal failure. rarely do i remember that this place is a fraternity house and that the odds are stacked against me. seldom does it occur to me that finding time to scrape the kids’ sticker art from the kitchen floor would mean neglecting some other responsibility or necessity, such as showing up at work or sleeping.

this is why i think my generation can greatly add to the flow of women’s progress simply by telling the truth. even the tidiest among us have at least one little corner where stuff from every category of life  is thrown together like new yorkers on the subway. life is moving along too quickly to stop and sort everything out. but if we pause long enough to voice our realities, the sense of personal failure might give way to the obvious collective notion that no single person can effectively accomplish the zillion tasks that are set before modern mothers.

today’s contribution to the reality project comes from elise, who gazes upon this scene daily from her perch at the computer.

there are boxes to break down for recycling, an old microwave to dispose of, grocery bags to return to the car, and a rogue cat carrier standing on end next to it all. there are “storage” areas just like this in nurturing homes all across the country, each of them taunting us with ridiculous standards and tiresome to-dos.

i am finding that nothing combats a sense of personal failure like a sense of humor. to all the folks who are willing to unveil their messes as part of the reality project, thank you. at the very least, these scenes make us laugh (there’s no cat in the carrier, right?). at the most, they just might help us learn to stop making society’s failures our own.

sharon sent me this piece, which i am titling:

• breakfast of champions,
• who has time to clear the dishes?, or
• the goofball pulls an all-nighter.

now let’s take a little trip to the master bathroom, home to this scene i’m going to call:

• walgreens stock truck crashes into east memphis home,
• step one – chug wine. step two – remove panties. step three – apply hair removal system, or
• east(ern medicine) meets west(ern medicine).

for those of you who are playing along at home, the two most recent submissions to the reality project  have involved stray skivvies. what can i say? it’s modern motherhood. not everything has its place.

perhaps the funniest thing about this recent submission to the reality project  is that it came with no accompanying explanation:

 i will now offer you the only plausible rationalization for natalie’s edgy little menagerie :

an oafish teenager, trapped in a middle-aged man’s body, was robbing a florida grocery store in search of the perfect tv dinner. witnesses say he was wearing a tan shirt bearing the image of a muskrat and holding a brown plaid umbrella, while peering at the contents of the store freezer through a paper towel roll scope. the suspect proceeded to a nearby beach-side condo to charge his phone, drink a beer, change into a green shirt, deodorize, and microwave his lunch. when the unsuspecting renters returned to the condo to reapply sunscreen and suction out their 8-month-old’s nostrils, they came face-to-face with the bandit. they put a pot of water on to boil and were discussing the best way to season thief stew when the suspect fled the scene.

typical case of arrested development.

the reality project  is off to a seamless start with pictures from carolyn. in addition to her responsibilities as a preschool teacher and a mom of two boys, carolyn makes and sells fabulous colorful aprons at the memphis farmers market, among other places. all this is to explain the scene you are about to behold:

carolyn writes, “this is the norm on any given day, and yes, we do eat dinner at that table every evening. all the crap gets moved around or just pushed to the end.”

the fun continues with this shot of the end table next to carolyn’s regular spot on the couch:

let’s play a game! can you spot the following?

• school stuff
• sewing stuff
• jewelry she’s taken off after a long day
• big cup of hot tea for the morning
• the “color swatch” that’s been on the wall for ages (color chosen and paint purchased ages ago, but it’s still not on the walls.)

carolyn, you win the prize for the most colorful take on chaos! and p.s. i will be contacting you about making me an apron!

lately i have been thinking about women’s progress and the gifts each generation of women has shared to improve life for the next. what do i have to offer? in a recent post i wrote for the fabulous liberated life blog, i admitted that

“the contents of my work and family life are tightly crammed into a metaphorical (and very disorganized) closet. the pacifiers and burp cloths live next to my dusty grad school diploma and laptop, which are obscuring a bunch of unread papers about the upcoming “level II beach party” that my son brought home in his school bag. i live in fear that someone will open the door of this closet and instigate an avalanche of all things dear to me.”

there are so many opportunities available to modern women. but what will i contribute to the next generation when taking advantage of these opportunities tends to yield a disorganized mishmash of overwhelming stuff?

and then it hit me (an idea… not the avalanche). perhaps my generation is charged with the important and unglamorous work of telling the truth. we can help define the problem. progress is impossible without an honest look at the current state of things. the plethora of mom blogs and parental facebook confessions speaks to the notion that our generation simply wants the freedom to come clean about the complexities of modern motherhood.

“the truth hurts,” according to an old saying. but sometimes, the truth is hilarious! some friends of mine have recently posted pictures on facebook of their own disorganized mishmashes of overwhelming stuff. these scenes represent the new normal of modern motherhood where everything does not have its place.

many thanks to lane and stiles for contributing the above pictures to what i am titling “the reality project.” let’s say there is a half-eaten sucker stuck to your uncashed paycheck or a jock strap in your fruit bowl. let’s say you’ve been walking by these scenes in your home for three days without even noticing. snap a photo and send it to me! the truth is funny. we might as well laugh. and who knows… we could be doing the next generation a favor.