The Beautiful Mundane

I have a photographer coming over this afternoon to shoot a "story telling" session in my home. This means that she will be capturing our lives exactly as they are. No posing, no make-up, no matching outfits.

I cringe a little, because my house isn't exactly pristine: stacks of papers are awaiting their home in the filing cabinet, dishes are dirty, and my son needs a haircut. But, well, that's kind of a highlight for this type of thing. This is my life as a mom. Gritty. Messy. Real.

All morning, I've been resisting the urge to "fix" the surface things in my world so that we can look better. But one of the core pillars of my heart is "authenticity." So I can embrace this. Deep breaths. Messy is okay. Imperfection is o--kay.

Actually, the more I think about that, the more excited I feel. I've been looking around my home and falling in love with the ordinary things about my life. There are literally a dozen toothbrushes in my bathroom (if you don't know, we own our home with another family). My daughter has about nine art projects lying on our counter (so they can dry. . . 3 days ago). Naked baby dolls are scattered everywhere. My fridge has a billion kiddish magnets stuck to it.

Today, the usual annoyances are being brought into a new light of appreciation for the speeding moments I'm living in. I can't cook without someone hanging on my leg. I can't go to the bathroom without an audience (or tears behind the closed door). If I want to shower alone, I need to be awake before 6 a.m.

I had a baby just yesterday, and she's turning 7 in August. The cliche is true: "The days are long, but the time is short." That baby brought some looooong days.

Twenty years will go by in the blink of an eye, and this time of toddler, first-grader, and all-boy will be a vague memory. No more catching worms, running in the sprinkler, digging up the yard with toy tractors, riding bikes down the hill, or chubby fistfuls of Play-Doh at my table. Miscellaneous still shots of random moments would be all we had.

But after tonight, I will have a capsule of exactly how things look right now including bed time routines, the faces around our dinner table, and the fights over homework.

This "every day" deal really is a beautiful thing. And it's passing me by like a careless breeze.