When someone thinks of a fairy tale, they envision singing birds, and sparkly castles, maybe some unicorns, a prince with his princess, magical moments full of enchantment .. and sparkles and rainbows and glitter and even more sparkles…
especially if you are a girl.
But not this girl.
I’m not sure at what point in my life I decided I would never have the fairy tale, nor really want it for that matter.
In high school, my fairy tale consisted of living in the Village in NYC, being all artsy fartsy with my artsy fartsy friends, staying out late, rubbing elbows with B list celebrities, painting when I wanted to paint in my giant loft with the giant windows, boyfriends went it felt right, and definitely no kids.
And look at me now.
Two-failed marriages, four kids, a ratty vehicle, often living paycheck to paycheck, live-in boyfriend with two more kids, a dog, cat and a hamster, an 80 mile round-trip commute each day …
IS my fairy tale.
and I LOVE IT.
Anyone from the outside looking in would see a circus.
The chaos, the mess, the noise, loud-voices, laughter and tears, drawings and writings and various papers scattered everywhere, 12 different calendars to keep all eight of us in the right place at the right time (often late, but shoot, we made it, right?), mismatched socks, dancing in the kitchen, whose turn is it on the Xbox or who gets to pick the next song, sleepover forts that stay up for 3 months, the cat’s up a tree, the dog ate my pencil, i think the hamster might be dead (nope just MIA), unreturned library books, one gets the flu you all get the flu, what’s for dinner tonight, burps, farts and smelly arm-pits (except for Avery, our sweet and only little girl in a sea of teenage boys … yea right), who is picking up the kids and who is picking up the pizza making sure we don’t both end up at home with just the pizza and no kids …
And that’s just the good days.
But who doesn’t love a circus, right?!
(except for the freaky clowns of course)
Honestly … I would take this circus over that fairy tale any day.