magnificent monotony
In a digital world of curation where most of us place emphasis on the beauty of things; our daily lives, our relationships, our careers, parenthood, friendships, fashion, beauty, home decor, vacations…it is oftentimes easy to lose sight of the beauty of daily “monotony.”
On a regular day in our house, my husband is up and out early before me or our daughter is awake. I’m up and at ‘em next. I grab my coffee and my computer and sit down on the couch to organize my day, catch up on email, and inevitably stress myself out with the mountainous list of to dos in order to manage the inner workings of a household and keep chasing that author dream of mine.
And then, as the stress begins to build before the sun has even fully risen, I hear a yawn down the hall behind a mostly closed door. It’s followed by the ruffle of blankets, likely warm with the scent of lavender lotion, a touch of night sweats, and a dollop of Aussie hair detangler from the night before. Two feet hit the ground, another yawn escapes, the door swings open, and on the best of days I’m greeted by three and a half feet of rainbow colored pajamas, a messy up-do that reminds me of my wildest nights in college, the most squeezable cheeks that perk up alongside a single dimpled smile, and an, “Oh, hi mom…where’s Dad?”
We’ve played this game on and off over the last two years of her almost five years of living. A Daddy’s girl at heart, with good reason to be. He is the coziest, warmest, most protective, loving, and loyal person on the planet. So, I don’t blame her one bit. When the initial disappointment of Dad already having left for work dissipates, she stomps towards my spot on the couch, climbs aboard like a little spider monkey, blessing me with the sweet, musky smell of her glorious morning breath that I simply can’t get enough of.
Her hands wrap around my neck as she instructs me to scratch her back and arms, “Like Daddy does.”
And, in that exact moment of messy hair, questionable breath (for both of us), pajamas, and the uncertainty of the day ahead of us, I feel a glimmer of happiness.
The world has stopped spinning.
For a few brief moments…my to do list doesn’t matter, my self imposed deadlines that came and went for chapter writing don’t matter, the ten pounds I wanted to lose before my fortieth birthday don’t matter.
All that matters is those few minutes reminding me of what is truly important in my life.
The love of my family and the incredibly difficult job of being a parent and raising children in a world that doesn’t make it easy to.
I am her safe space.
And she is mine.
When Dad returns home later, we’ll be complete.
Money comes and goes.
To do lists are never ending.
Stress refuses to ever take vacation days.
Curation is great. I’m an author after all. I love showcasing the best photos I used for inspiration, repurposing the best lines I’ve ever written, and sharing the best reviews I’ve received.
But what’s even better than that, is the messy, raw, real, and “monotonous" moments behind the scenes that drive us forward.
Honor them.
Embrace the ugly moments.
Enjoy the quiet moments.
Breathe in that sweet, musky breath as long as you can.
When she finally pulls away from her spider monkey hug, and your cup of appreciation for all you have is refilled, store that feeling somewhere deep within your heart and soul because you’ll likely need to refer back to it within minutes.
When worry and doubt or stress filled exhaustion consume you, it’s not necessarily the curated highlight reel you’ll look back on for comfort.
It’ll be the simplest treasures that life has given us; the love of family, the comfort of home, the early morning hugs, and the “monotony" of it all.
