Why Can’t Life Be Like Instagram? – Love and Pride

Why Can’t Life Be Like Instagram?

By Brandy Black


I love looking through pictures on instagram, mini postcards of perfect beautiful lives.  The food, the sunsets, the snowman, the skiers, all of the adventurous  things people are doing. I like vacations because I too can participate in sharing my picture perfect life, but this year, my instagram went silent. I got slammed with the reality that three kids will bring. It all started with a toothache that led my wife and me to pacing in the waiting room after our daughter had been sedated for a root canal, one day before a vacation to Mammoth. After surviving that and having a lovely vacation we closed out our final day by momentarily losing our son in Mammoth Village and proceeded to a long drive home filled with contentious quips that built into a big fight on Christmas Eve. I reminded myself that I am strong and we can weather the storm until a day before our vacation in Laguna Beach with the family three days later, our daughter got a very painful ear infection that culminated in screaming at 12AM and a rush to the doctor in the early morning. Medication in hand we made it to the hotel and gathered with the family only for me to break out in a fever and an extremely painful Strep throat that kept me in bed the rest of the trip.  On New Year’s Eve, shortly after we arrived home, I woke up at 8AM puking from the pain and drove myself to the doctor, dizzy and exhausted, with no appointment and no voice to ask for one.  I walked to the window of my Century City doctor and begged in a whisper for someone to see me, after being turned down 3 times because apparently doctors don’t work on New Year’s Eve, a lovely woman, we’ll call her my angel took me to another office in the building and told them they must see me.   I missed the half marathon that I had recently done a 10 mile training run for, that I had been training for over the last couple months because I was on antibiotics and dehydrated.  This is how I began my 2014.  Defeated, tired, still recovering from multiple family catastrophes, a stolen purse incident that happened in the midst of all of this as well as an au pair that no longer feels up to the task of taking care of our children.

Dare I write new year’s resolutions? What’s the point?  I have no control, I am ready, fists up, prepared for the fight, peaking around the corners, waiting to be knocked down. I have come to terms with the reality that life is not perfect and I can only assume that what I’m being given I can handle and on some days I’m pretty horrible at handling it. And on others I think I was made for this shit!




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