Reality

When I was not that much older than Mason, I knew who shot J.R. Ewing. Along with half the country, I watched Dallas on Friday nights. It seems that I have always enjoyed a good drama with a twist or 2. I was a huge fan of Beverly Hills 90210, Melrose Place, ER, and, of course, Desperate Housewives.

Reality shows, on the other hand, have never held much appeal for me. I was intrigued, though, by the Real Housewives of various cities. I've watched a few, and I'm here to say that they don't seem to match any sort of reality. How do I know? I am a real housewife of Atlanta, and it is not as glamorous as it is on TV. Last week I went on a 2nd grade field trip to the History Center, I painted an old dresser with a great paint off of the oops rack at Lowes, I grocery shopped, I raked leaves, and tried (not successfully) to keep up with the laundry. I'm not complaining, I'm simply pointing out my reality.

Mason seems to have finally caught whatever is going around, and so we'll be housebound for at least a few days this week until he feels better. That is my reality, I'll clean, do more laundry, pay bills, and take care of my sick little boy. I don't have drivers, house keepers, or professional landscapers, and that's alright. Today's latte is to find your own reality and embrace it - perhaps with an Eggnog latte, they're here for the season!