dear pinterest

Pinterest has basically ruined my life.

I'm really not trying to be (that) dramatic. It's just that, sometimes ~~always~~, Pinterest makes me super aware that I need a giant do-over. For example:

My wedding. You see, I had no idea that instead of having a traditional wedding in a church, that what I REALLY wanted was a trendy barn wedding. Because, MASON JARS. I mean, we didn't even have a hashtag for our big day. But Sherri, how did you search out everyone's photos on social media? Haha, you're so cute. Social media didn't even exist yet. People still had to use cameras that required FILM back then, and hashtags were considered a weird skin thing.

(Btw, my bridesmaids dresses were TEA LENGTH, Pinterest. I blame you entirely for this. You weren't there to tell me that everyone should pick the same color, but in a shape that flatters them individually. DUH.)

Without Pinterest, I wouldn't know that my wedding was missing a photo both with zany props. Or candid shots of the wedding party jumping in the air. I just thought I was doing good to get my bridesmaids jewelry that matched their freaking TEA LENGTH DRESSES. GAH.

(This is your fault, Pinterest.)

Decorating a house. Back when we moved into our house, Pinterest wasn't even a sparkle in anyone's eye. So, instead of beautifully organized, virtual inspiration boards entitled dream home, bathroom ideas, and outdoor living, I had to keep my ideas in a three ring binder. Filled with pages RIPPED FROM MAGAZINES.

(Do you even know what a magazine IS, Pinterest? My guess is no.)

I thought that what I wanted was a gray craftsman-style home, but you know what? It turns out that I actually want a white farmhouse with giant picture windows and shiplap.

(I blame you, Pinterest.)

(And probably Joanna Gaines too, if we're being honest).

Having children. I had no clue that I was supposed to do an adorable chatbook with captions for the baby album. I actually SCRAPBOOKED a (half) baby book for AG. Do you know how much I hate scrapbooking? There's no backup on the cloud of this baby book. In fact, if our house ever burns down, I'd better grab my PRINTED PAPER PHOTOS GLUED INTO HALF A BABY BOOK.

AG has no custom hashtag for all her baby pictures. She is screwed. Now, people who desperately want to see her first diaper change WON"T BE ABLE TO...unless they come look in her physical baby book. Which, again, is made of actual paper.

Ew.

And since Pinterest wasn't there to impart information on the 5 essential oils that would make my labor and delivery comfortable and painless, I just got my epidural, watched the Bachelor, and hoped for the best. My baby bag contained my pre-baby jeans, since I didn't have access to mom blogs that would be like, SKINNY JEANS, BYE.

Speaking of blogs, I had to read a real book to learn how to sleep train my child. And it wasn't even on a kindle. What in the actual heck??

Parenting. I don't have a life-sized ruler (distressed, naturally) on which to measure my children's heights from birth, and then every year after. And if I do one NOW, it will look like my kids were birthed at 3 and 4 ft tall. I'm sure they'll treasure this keepsake. Much like their paper baby books.

There's no rainbow colored discipline chart, and my kids don't write in a dream journal everyday. I wasn't even aware that I needed to grow a mini-garden in my backyard with organic produce, or give my kids only 4 (wooden, duh) toys at Christmas.

AG is pretty much ruined. At least there's still a little hope for Bo. I hope you've got some good blogs for the teenage years, Pinterest. I'm gonna need them.

P.S. I'll see you tonight, Pinterest, because I need to pin some articles on "magical ways to speed up my metabolism," "throwing a school party so that doesn't suck," and "10 ways to understand your first-graders homework."