You know those blogs written by the perfect homemakers? The women that cook perfect meals, bake their own bread, have warm and gooey homemade desserts with dinner (that are somehow healthy as well as delicious), use coupons to save 95% on their grocery bill, and have a perfectly clean and organized home? Plus, they post devotionals on their blog and save the world in their spare time.  I'm not one of those women. But I'm addicted to reading their blogs. Maybe because I dream of becoming one of those women. Maybe because I've never actually met a woman like that and wonder if those "super mom" bloggers are faking it. Anyway, all that to say, I was reminded tonight how much I am NOT one of those perfect homemakers:

Matt has had a hard couple of days and I wanted to make him a treat. What better treat than a homemade copycat girl scout samoa. The pictures looked amazing. The instructions looked fairly simple (albeit time consuming). So... yeah. There ya go. I decided to simplify matters and NOT use cookie cutters to make the little donut shapes. (My first mistake?) Then, I couldn't get the caramel/coconut mixture to stick to the cookie (it was sticking to my hand, the knife, and the side of the bowl I melted it in just fine). By the time, I got to the chocolate, I was frustrated and tense and just didn't care anymore. After they cooled, Matt bit into one, and I asked him if it tasted like a samoa. He hesitated and then said, "Honestly? No." So... FAIL!! Then I spent the whole night feeling like I wasted an afternoon and was frustrated that I didn't just make chocolate chip cookies as a treat. And God had to remind me that not EVERY project I start is going to turn out perfectly because I'm NOT perfect. And that's okay. I don't have to strive to be a perfect homemaker, trophy wife, and super mom all at the same time. I try to keep a neat house, I try to show my kids that I love them and Jesus loves them, I try to make myself attractive for my husband. And sometimes I make ugly desserts in my spare time. :)

One of the highlights of my weekend is going out to eat as a family. I know it's not health-prudent or money-prudent; I don't care. It's the one time a week that I feel like I can relax at dinner and let someone else serve me. So, Friday night, Matt took the family out. We tried to go to Stoby's (our fave hole-in-the-wall where we live), but the parking lot was full. Then we went to Cactus Jacks (our fave Mexican restaurant) but ran into the same problem. So onto the local Italian place. We had the WORST service that we've ever received since we've been going out together. Seriously. The night was terrible; the food was not even that great. So I was all bummed that my weekly dinner out was ruined. Then Matt (being the great husband that he is) took me out again Sunday night to make up for it. And our perfect angel baby (Miss Chloe, herself) decided to cry and scream about 5 minutes after we set her in the high-chair. Loud enough to be heard across the whole restaurant. So Matt walked her around the restaurant while I sat with Brooke and waited for the waitress to bag up our dinner. Yep... at that point, we just had to laugh. Some things are just not meant to be, I guess. One of those stories that we'll tell Chloe about in 16 years and laugh over.

Well, I must fold laundry so Matt and I actually have a place to sleep tonight. Hope all are well...