Welcome to The Realists Club

I try to be a realist. I pride myself on it actually. I try not to be the Debbie Downer of every situation, but I do believe not everything is sunshine and rainbows too. Some situations just suck and there is quite frankly no better word to use. Enter me: Miss (Mrs. whatever, okay?) Realist 2019.

My kids got rear ended yesterday driving home from school.

Just one of those moments where - it sucked. They were all wearing their seat belts. They were all uninjured. They stopped behind another car that was stopped and the person behind them was on an ice patch and didn't get stopped in time.

Let's all say it together, "oh, that sucks."

Right? There's no better word to sum up the situation.

Am I thankful they're okay and were not hurt? Yes.

Am I happy we're going to be missing a family car for an undetermined amount of time while it gets fixed? Not really.

Hence the use of the appropriate term - that sucks.

Yes, because this is how real people look on any given day.

Now, in reality land (not to be confused with reality TV - two very different things, one of them not actual real at. all.) I can tell you, in all honesty, that despite my ability to look at things from a realistic point of view - there are some things I am firmly in denial about.


One of them being the state of my basement at any given moment.

(Pausing to shudder.)

We have an unfinished basement in our home. Its primary use is storage but there is a "workout room" (use that term as loosely as you possibly can here) and an area that my kids have confiscated to use for their video games.

The furniture is all the hodge-podge, unmatching pieces we own, (comfortable but atrocious looking) there are bins of toys that no longer see the light of playtime but for some reason cannot be parted with, and to really add to the mystery is all unused seasonal wear, not-in-use holiday decor and camping gear even though we never have time to camp anymore.

Basically, this place is an organized person's nightmare.

Which is how I feel every time I'm forced to go down there to get something out of the freezer. Like perhaps if I pinch myself I'll wake up to a basement that looks like its inhabited by humans rather than zoo animals.

But, the reality is - that is how it looks. So - even though I pride myself on being a realist - I do the only thing a realist in denial does - avoids going there at all cost.

Another thing I'm in denial over - how annoying my puppy is to other people. To us, she's our puppy. She's little. "She's learning," we all say as we smile at her bad habits because she's so cute. To other people she's a jumping demon who sits in the garage waiting to pounce and pee on all visitors.

(Please, don't everyone line up at once to stop in...)

So, here's the deal. If you, like me, prefer to think of yourself as a person who sees a situation for what it really is (party that flopped? Let's call it a flop and move on, let's not call it "that party where everyone was too busy to come.") but you're also smart enough to realize that certain situations aren't meant for unicorns and fairy dust and some things, no matter what you call them ("ohhh, your basement's not messy - its like shabby-chic meets vintage) - they can only be called one thing - an eyesore, then welcome to the Realists Club.

(Not to be mistaken for the Optimists Club - that's two doors down and decorated with sparkles... Or the Pessimists Club - go the other way and look for a bunch of people dressed in brown, gray or black...)

We might be the smallest of the three groups but its the only one where if someone tells you that your shoes don't go with your outfit you won't have to cover your shoes with Tinkerbell stickers to make them match your belt, you won't have to burn them, you can just shrug and acknowledge it with a "that sucks" and then have a glass of wine anyway.

"Welcome. We're glad to have you. I'm Jess, residing Chairman of the club. Please, don't go to the basement... it's, um, under construc... an eyesore."