Parenting

Why I'm Breaking Up With Pinterest (For Good This Time)

by Rachel Pillow
harpazo_hope / Getty

I know, it will probably be one of those temporary break-ups because one Saturday morning I will think about the fact that we have a Crock Pot I should use and you’ll lead me to some kind of healthy turkey chili recipe that looks way better in pictures than the pile of brown I’ll be serving my family. And, while you did basically inspire every single detail of my gorgeous, just-a-hint-of-rustic wedding…that was then and this is now, and sometimes people change, Pinterest, that’s just the way life goes.

I promise I’m not lying to soften the blow when I say, “It’s not you, it’s me.” It is, in fact, me. You see, in my head I am a crafty person. In my head I am a creative chef and DIY’er and super exerciser. But, in reality, I’m on my couch wearing stretchy pants from Target without a bra, sipping Chardonnay and flipping through Hulu.

Sounds nice, right? Sounds like I still have time to invest in our relationship, right? No, Pinterest, you deserve much better than the 10 p.m. version of me and I just can’t give that to you at this point in my life.

I had high hopes for us too. I mean just check out my 3,000+ pins of things that I dreamt we would do together. But I keep letting you down and it isn’t fair to you.

I just have to be honest: I’m never actually going to make anything with that embarrassingly large, ever-increasing pile of corks in the kitchen vase. I’m never going to paint, stain and build floating shelves with that obnoxious wooden pallet I dragged home from work. All my jewelry-making stuff is gathering dust in a box under my bed. And, if I’m being super honest, I probably won’t even bake bread from scratch anytime in the near future, even though I ambitiously went out and bought yeast.

This is why we need to break up…I can’t keep pretending I have time and energy for you, just to let you down over and over again. Because by the time I wake up, get dressed, make coffee, argue with the toddler about playing with my phone, put the toddler on the potty so she can just sit there for 15 minutes, get the toddler dressed, argue with the toddler again about playing with my phone, cave and let the toddler use phone, let the dog out, feed the dog, grab random crap out of the fridge and throw it in a bag for lunch, pray for red lights so I can put makeup on in the car, sing ABCs and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star 30x in a row, drop the toddler off at daycare, work work work, meetings meetings meetings, pick up the toddler, think about what to make for dinner, stop by grocery store to pick up a rotisserie chicken and bag of salad while the toddler lunges at shelves yelling “want want want, mine mine mine,” get home, unload car, hug & kiss husband and tag team him in, make dinner, eat dinner, intercept pieces of chicken that are flying across the room, play with the toddler, bathtime, pjs, books, brush teeth, snuggles, start the battle called bedtime, finally win the battle after 30+ minutes of resistance, clean kitchen, put in a load of laundry, pick up the tornado of toys that swept the living room, take shower, put on stretchy Target pants, pour a glass of Chardonnay, sit on the couch, flip on Hulu and ask for a shoulder massage…by that time I just don’t have it in me to go make handmade soap or whatever else you’re expecting of me.

So, I really hope you understand where I’m coming from, Pinterest. I am sorry, but this is goodbye. Don’t worry though, it’s probably not forever: I’m sure I’ll catch up with you soon when my daughter is in preschool and I have to figure out some fantastic, personalized treats to bring in on class party day. But until then, I’ll just be cheating on you getting back rubs from the Hubs and relishing in my hard-earned laziness each and every night.

Best of luck to you, Pinterest. I hope you find someone who can fulfill your needs and who doesn’t make empty promises — because you are great and you deserve happiness too.