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  • Writer's pictureDeena

Messy Monotonous Marvelous Mundane

Some "cheeky" one left a dry-erase marker message on the light blue tile just above the downstairs toilet paper dispenser and it makes me smile.

It reminds me that we ARE that quirky family that always wanted.

Hi friends.

Happy Thursday from the breezy upstairs bedroom where we welcome Mom's crocheted multi-color cranberry blanket and the smallish green chair that makes my room my favorite.

I laugh to remember that there has been a long line of chairs that have scooped me and my desire to encourage up, making it two green and one very over-stuffed sad looking blue chair where it all started.

The rain begins and the melancholy in me adores rain and frumpy clouds and warm socks.

And the fact that in the past two weeks I have gnawed-away an entire chocolate Easter Bunny before most Mom's have even thought about Easter baskets.

And we're talking about the solid kind.

Ain't nobody got time for some hollow idea.

The dear husband has taken over the knowledge of the Central African Republic and run-on sentences so that I can stay home to meet with you.

I felt a bit sheepish reheating my coffee and slinking upstairs while he told each of them that they were not to bother me at any cost.

I love that man.

That man that I wondered would get pretty sick of me as we caught a plane and hid away from the world for an entire week's time.

All of my worries about being boring or running out of good conversation topics were replaced by finally figuring out how to properly cook bacon in the oven and bike rides to everywhere.

Turns out, after 25 years the mundane feels pretty incredibly good.

Like a sweatshirt that's not worn-out but perfectly worn-in.

And it's just right for rainy days, homemade pizza days, can't find that book they're supposed to write analysis questions from days,

Second in-car driving instruction depression days, what if all my kids come back home and live with us forever days,

Have way more milk than cereal days, Ring around the tub days, can't find the right-ear Airpod days, always one more visit away from a Panera reward days and many many more.

I remember realizing many many moons ago that I would be making meals and cleaning up after them for the rest of my existence.

I remember the sad place that took me as a young wife and mother who had never had an ounce of Home Ec.

I also remember having one of my teens from the youth group on the phone to walk me through my first pot of homemade chicken noodle soup.

Those were the days.

Days when I wondered if the mundane would just completely swallow me up whole and be done with me.

If the never-ending pile of laundry and muddy shoes would lock up my joy and throw away the key.

No one tells you as a Mom of many littles that one day you will hang your hat on the mundane and use hot sinks of dishes to warm your hands all the way to your heart.

That there will be a day when all the kids will be sitting on your bed instead of you sitting on the end of theirs with water, cough syrup or throw-up bowls.

No marriage book tells you that a week without pressures will land you at Epcot without your kids and it will be magical.

Even the boat ride at Mexico in the middle of the afternoon.

The "best Mom ever" mug will get a few tea stains, the kitchen cabinets will need replacing, the dog will ruin your carpet and your wedding dress will spend two decades inside of a garbage bag in your closet in three different states.

Thats alright.

There's a marvelous making in those mundane days and weeks that makes up a lovely life.

There's a comfort in years of uncomfortable decisions and moments and your own skin that makes this time extra cozy.

So here's to worn-out, old-school, retro love and home making.

Here's to the same revolving meals on the side of the fridge with the hubby's comments and kisses that are even better than the first ones when he comes home from work.

You can keep your new and improved, thank you very much.

I'll take the middle-aged marvelous.

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