I follow a familiar pattern: I pick up a Martha Stewart magazine at the grocery store (usually the Halloween issue. I love that holiday and nobody knows their tricks and treats like Martha); I like what I see so I subscribe. Then for 12 months I am blessed to behold Martha and her perfect lifestyle. Picture after picture of her lovely peony gardens, her jawdroppingly clean and organized laundry room (no clothes in sight. Imagine that!), her handcrafted vases made entirely of sandollars and starfish. After a while I can only roll my eyes at Martha. Her endless tales of parties and gardens and decorating really get on my nerves. People actually write questions asking Martha about when to flip their mattresses and how to properly store their masking tape. “Get a life Martha, ” I think to myself. “Try having a bunch of toddlers running around your sumptuous Connecticut estate and see how that works out.” But something always nags at the back of my mind; Maybe her lifestyle is normal. Maybe I’m the only one who can’t keep it together. I’m probably the only person with a mountain of mismatched socks and sloppily folded towels. I’ve haven’t seen most other people’s laundry rooms, but I’m guessing they all have buttons arranged according to color in quaint glass jars.
Christmas rolls around to solidify my flagging self-esteem. Newsletter after newletter arrives from friends and family, carefully detailing the brilliance and athletic prowess of all children but mine. I’m not going to take this bragging lying down, though. I pull out the big guns. No, not the “poem” newsletter composed in poor iambic pentameter. I’m talking about the Christmas picture featuring my coup de grace–matching outfits. With six children, this has gotten incredibly difficult. But it’s worth it, right? A picture says a thousand words. Only, what is it I’m trying to say? That we’re perfect and we have nothing but joy and wonderfulness in our lives? That I’m an amazing and creative mother? That we always stand around mountain vistas in identical blue clothes?
This is the reality: I sewed three dresses for my daughters and a matching skirt for myself. I didn’t even bother hemming my skirt since I knew nobody would be able to tell. The whole two weeks that I was sewing, dishes piled up everywhere, diapers did not get changed very promptly, and I only swept the floor when I stepped on yet another pin. When it came time for the photo session, my husband complained during the entire one hour trip up to some obscure meadow in the mountains. I yelled at the kids for messing up their hair. I yelled at my two-year-old for forgetting her shoes. Everybody squinted in most of the pictures. We had major Photoshopping done. The mountain in the background didn’t have any snow yet, so we Photoshopped some of that in as well.
I’m very torn because on one hand I really want that Martha-esque perfection. In my case any sort of perfection is a veneer, but at what length do I go to to preserve the illusion? Should I try to keep up the appearance of having my life completely together? For Christmas this year should I make personalized gingerbread people for every man, woman and child on my street? (Don’t laugh; I actually did that once.) On the other hand, trying to appear perfect doesn’t exactly seem Christlike. It’s hardly humble. When I think of the pure love of Christ, which is charity, the definition seems to be the polar opposite of a Martha-wannabe. “Charity is kind, it envieth not, it vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up.” (1 Corinthians 13:4)
But I just love to walk into a room holding an absolutely stellar homemade dessert, wearing a fantastic outfit and having my make-up looking flawless. I love that my bedding is beautiful and coordinates perfectly with my wall color. I love that my desk drawer has a separate little compartment for each of my supplies. Am I evil to like these things? Does this count as treasure that moth and rust doth corrupt? Would I be more Christlike if I had mismatched furniture? Or brought store-bought potato salad to a picnic instead of homemade? Where does pride start and humility end? When the Lord says “be ye perfect”, exactly what is He talking about? Is it only spiritual, or should I strive to be perfectly organized, perfectly clean and a perfect homemaker on top of it all?
Oh, how to answer without sounding like a jerk. Um.
The thing is, He’s talking about following Him, striving for spiritual perfection - not about making your appearance perfect. He doesn’t want us to be vain and prideful. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have pretty things, and it’s good to try to look your best - but it shouldn’t MATTER. If you HAD to go to church wearing something that wasn’t fashionable and flawless, would you be upset and angry about it? If you had to have tacky, mismatched furniture for a while, would you be upset about it?
“Does this count as treasure that moth and rust doth corrupt?” Pretty much. It’s not wrong to have nice things or appreciate them, but if you’re overly attached to your stuff, or if it’s a major source of pride - that’s bad news. If you can’t let a friend in the door unless everything is perfect, something’s wrong. If you are making yourself and everyone else miserable in order to keep up appearances - something’s out of balance.
If you aren’t, on the other hand, and you can afford it, then hey - Martha your brains out.
What a great read, Jennie. I love how you do the Lamott thing here. You’ve written something that is wry, witty and even laugh-out-loud funny, but that has a weight and soul and asks some really important hard questions.
You wrote:
“But I just love to walk into a room holding an absolutely stellar homemade dessert, wearing a fantastic outfit and having my make-up looking flawless. I love that my bedding is beautiful and coordinates perfectly with my wall color. I love that my desk drawer has a separate little compartment for each of my supplies. Am I evil to like these things?”
I don’t have the answer to most of the questions you pose, but I do have an answer to this one! No, it does not make you evil to value and yearn for order and beauty. These are divine attributes. This yearning is the impetus behind much of the great art that has been produced through the ages. All it takes is a trip to the temple to recognize that order and aesthetics are important to God.
Of course, it’s a whole different matter if your motivation is simply to impress or to create a false appearance. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. My guess is that you love your beautiful bedding that coordinates perfectly with your wall color not because you want to show it off and not because you’re a superficial materialist, but because that beauty and harmony feeds your soul and makes you happy.
Jennie, I really appreciate your honesty here. A quick thought I had was that there is no glory in mismatched anything. I have had my days of shunning the wealthy and taking pride in my “humble” circumstances. Any pride is bad. What Sue said is the truth: it shouldn’t matter. None of it.
Now for my more lengthy thoughts…
Re: Your nagging voice, “Maybe her lifestyle is normal. Maybe I’m the only one who can’t keep it together. I’m probably the only person with a mountain of mismatched socks and sloppily folded towels. I’ve haven’t seen most other people’s laundry rooms, but I’m guessing they all have buttons arranged according to color in quaint glass jars.”
I would venture to say that MS’ lifestyle is so far from normal we couldn’t imagine it. I wonder how many people she pays to put things together, come up with ideas, clean for her, help her pick out clothes and such. I cannot imagine she is as together as she looks for the shows all the time. Also I KNOW you aren’t the only one who can’t keep it together. I am right there with you, as I’m pretty sure most of us are.
You wrote, “In my case any sort of perfection is a veneer.” I think most (all?) looks of perfection are just as you said–a veneer, “looks” and not the real thing. Nobody has it completely together all the time. It’s so easy to compare others’ Sunday best with our own Monday morning disasters.
And you asked such an important question: “at what length do I go to to preserve the illusion?” I have to ask myself sometimes (too often), what is the cost here? Is it worth being angry at my husband? My kiddo is too young to do damage, but when he’s older, will it be worth hurting him by yelling at him, just to have everything all together? I really believe it is NOT worth it. Being on time isn’t worth it. Having perfectly coifed hair and fabulous family photos isn’t worth it. NOTHING is so important that it should take precedence over family relationships. NOTHING.
I sometimes long for the day I have a somewhat larger, FINISHED, beautifully put together home. But if I had it, would I feel pressure to keep up that “beautifully put together” image? I think so. I don’t think it’s bad to long for or strive for nice things–Martha Stewart has such incredible ideas–and nice things are fun! It’s not good, however, to place such value over them that relationships suffer.
I know that when my relationship with Deity is strong, I am better at loving my family and not caring about the rest. I feel happier and not worried with appearances.
I have to say it again, Jennie, that I do appreciate your honesty. I think more of us struggle with this on various levels than care to admit.
Oh–Sharlee posted while I was still writing. I like what you said, too. And I love your point: “beauty and harmony feeds your soul and makes you happy.”
I wanna see the picture.
As an artist I certainly love things that are aesthetically pleasing. I also love things that are organized, although that seems to be lacking at my house lately. I love things that are homemade for me, that is one of the touches of being a mother. Making something personal making it from scratch. For me the difference is that motivation, sometimes I get the feeling from Martha. It’s about being showy, it has to be a $10 a yard ribbon or the imported bourbon vanilla and less than that is inferior. While I love whipping out amazing cakes for my kids birthdays, half the joy is doing it on a budget, making it from scratch, and I love helping people learn new skills. I think it’s also how much time it takes up, what part of our heart. It consumes where it fits in our priorities. Sometimes they get bothered by the influxes of style, but somehow those perfectly usable things have to be tossed to make way for a new look. I guess it’s that old Pioneer adage: use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. That runs through my head. I think you’re right there is a line to be walked here. In our current age, I think there is hedonistic aesthetic is becoming a God- beauty above all else. I once notice the header on Child Magazine touts it as raising children with style– it actually upset me. Of all the things I want most for my kids being stylish doesn’t make the top 10. Sometimes it seems to seep in a little but, for I try to keep perspective- great post. I’ll
I think there is so much value in order and cleanliness, at least for my personal sanity. I think that things like timeliness and such are matters of respect for others. We were just talking about this the other day with our kids, and the conclusion we came to was that Heavenly Father didn’t care so much about the cleanliness, but about how we are respecting and treating the gifts and blessings He has given us.
If I am not a good steward of the physical blessings I have been given, I can reasonably expect nothing more. Does that seem to ring true? I don’t know for sure, but for me it works. I feel sad and upset when my kids recklessly disregard, break, or destroy things I give to them, and I can imagine the Lord would feel the same.
But on the other side, if I hold on to these things and this order in my heart, and hold it above other, more important things, then I’ve got a problem.
Your post reminds me of the Mary/Martha story from the bible. We aren’t here to go about busily doing, but rather becoming our best.
I really think the “look” of perfection is a counterfeit, a fraud, a shallow substitute for the sweet and humble perfection you are really looking for. But it would be great to have your cake and eat it too, right?
Jennie, I love this!
I think we come here with embedded memories of beauty, order, and cleanliness. It’s part of being children of, you know, two Gods. So no, I don’t think the underlying desire is bad. I think it’s very good.
The test here is whether we’ll be able to recognize and choose the greater good. That was Eve’s challenge, and she passed with flying colors. But I don’t need to outline the ways in which we can let our desires for beauty and order and cleanliness overshadow our desires for more important things, or the ways in which we pursue good things for bad reasons… we all know how easily that happens.
We can’t always have, simultaneously, all the good things that are theoretically possible. Eve couldn’t have progression and obedience in that one infamous situation. She chose progression. I can’t have a clean house and write a book. I choose writing the book (although I wouldn’t fault a woman who chose differently). I can’t have a perfect family photo and a happy family before, during, and shortly after the photo session. I choose…the photo. ;)(Actually, I used to, but I don’t anymore.)
Everything we do has an opportunity cost, and figuring out how to be wise stewards is doing a lot of experimenting and figuring out (in the midst of many mistakes) what kinds of choices lead to true happiness.
Can’t help but laugh that Martha Stewart is named, well, Martha.
I hope this doesn’t come off as sounding pompous, but I often get the “supermom” label, and I never know if it’s a compliment or a criticism. Even when I think people mean it as a compliment, I take it as a criticism, like people must be saying, “your life looks good on the surface, but there must be something in there somewhere where you fail.” There are LOTS of places where I fail, and my Christmas card picture, is photoshopped like yours. I often wonder if my own desire to have a neat house, well-groomed kids, run marathons, bake good food and wear cute clothes is driven by an inner perfectionism or competition. I think it’s perfectionism, but sometimes I can’t be sure. Either way, I’m not sure if it’s healthy.
I don’t think there is anything wrong with having a beautiful house or appearing well put together. I just recognize that it will probably never be my reality. I refuse to replace my garage sale couch until after my kids stop peeing on things!
Marie, that is how I feel about my carpet. And my couch.
Jennie, I’d like to tell myself that beauty and a desire for things to look good is superficial. But I don’t think it is–I think creating beauty is a spiritual gift. And I stink at it, which is why I tend to resent it or downplay it. I think that the best purpose of creating beauty is to serve–to bless your family or the people in your ward. Mostly, especially with Mormons, women are the ones who are supposed to make things beautiful. Again, I am rotten at this. But I am learning to appreciate that gift in others, instead of resent it.
show me a woman who says she doesn’t care if she looks put together and i’ll show you a liar.
we all want acceptance–i just think we learn as we go along, ie., bet you won’t be making gingerbread people for your whole street again, now, will you….
when my first child was in preschool we had the treat for the day before halloween. i spent 3 1/2 hours making 22 individual ‘ghosts in the graveyard’ desserts (cups with crushed oreos, filling, another filling, whipped cream…you get the idea) and then watched about half of them take one bite and then throw them away.
i don’t make that mistake anymore, but i still try in other ways. it keeps us on our toes
Love this. You have organized my thoughts and opinions into one article. I am proud to say we don’t match in Christmas pictures and we don’t send out a newsletter. And even as I type this, my kitchen is a disaster. It feels good to get that out:)
Everyone has their own sense of security. Mine is nicely folded towels and my son wearing a tie and ironed shirt to church. But what might be someone’s security sure isn’t mine. Like sewing, wearing matching clothes and scrapbooking.
“We should all do what, in the long run gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry.” -E.B. White
My mom and I have enjoyed watching Martha Stewart together through the years. I find it rather relaxing. I watched some of it with the woman who I consider to be my step-grandmother once. She worked hard in welding for many years and also raised a family. Martha was making something like Dove ice cream and chocolate bars. My step-grandma thought that looked like way to much to do for chocolate and ice cream.
I know I talk way to much about my phobias. But with all my phobias in the kitchen and watching Martha do everyting it really is something that I marvel at. I also like her variety of plant shows, educational features and culture.
I have no right to comment on the subject of family photos since we haven’t managed a professional portrait of any person in my family in about 8 years, but, since that was one part of your post that interested me, here’s my one cent’s worth, anyway:
1. Once while we were looking at fridges at Sears and trying to keep our kids occupied, I took the kids into the photo area to sit down in the waiting room and play with the toys. The girl working there said that it was a slow time, and if I was willing, she’d do a free sitting with my 2 kids and give us a free 8×10. The photo turned out beautifully, (good enough to purchase more prints, although I think I didn’t ever get around to that,) and the photographer told me that spontaneous photos often turn out much better than planned ones, since the kids are relaxed and happy and the moms haven’t had the chance to nag the kids during the whole drive over about not messing up their hair and not wrinkling their clothes .
2. A few years ago, in trying to get our kids ready for church, my husband and I used to get mad at each other every Sunday morning — he always thought I was making us late, I always thought he was making us late, etc. Finally we made a change — I can’t remember exactly what was the impetus, but I might have said that I didn’t care how late we were, but that the sniping was ruining our Sabbath and I’d rather miss church entirely than talk to each other snippily every week. Anyway, we identified our behavior and we both stopped it. Now, (although we still snipe at each other about plenty of other things at other times,) we nearly always have very peaceful and cooperative Sunday mornings. As to how this story pertains to family photo-taking: although a horrible ordeal for all concerned just once a year is less of an issue than a bad Sunday every week, yet it does seem like one of those things where if you take the long view that family harmony is a higher priority than a “perfect” appearance,and use that thought to calm yourself when you’re tempted to yell or nag, then in the long run, you *might* actually end up with more beautiful photos — especially in the sense that your children will look at the photos and remember a happy time with their family.
I know, it’s a LOT easier said than done, but it still might be a change of approach worth striving for.
P.S. I do think you have every right to ask your kids to cooperate in getting a nice photo taken if it’s important to you — I guess I would just try to aim for persuasion rather than contention (which is a change of method I could really use in a lot of my parenting.)