Today I took a nap. A real nap.
I put on a CLEAN semi trendy outfit and thought that I looked cute in my leggings, skirt and tee combo paired with boots and matching purse.
I liked my outfit. I didn’t have to worry about practicality and I didn’t need to walk half naked from room to room handling other peoples clothing emergencies, “this sock feels weird” or “where’s my left shoe” were nowhere to be heard! I chose an outfit that I liked and then I got dressed.
I had time to curl my hair and apply what passes as make up for me…basically BB cream, lipstick and eyeliner. I didn’t have to take my lipstick out of my four year olds hands and I didn’t have to explain to my daughter why I like to put eyeliner on my eyes.
After much pomp and circumstance (and several rounds of hugs and pouty faces) I left my house without children.
I went to a Starbucks not attached to a Target, alone.
I walked up to the Starbucks counter (not the drive thru) and ordered a Grande Iced Carmel Macchiato (for the first time) without the chaos of multiple voices trying to order their own drinks in rapid succession.
I was early for my moms night out and unapologetically jammed to top 40 music, complete with expletives.
It was GLORIOUS!
Dinner with female adult conversation and Baltimore’s third year of Listen to Your Mother was, to say the least, a blessing.
I love my children and truly enjoy being with them, but friendship and nights out are a gift, a rare and well appreciated gift.
On my way home, just to maximize my time out, I walked through a bookstore until closing… by myself! I looked at the adult fiction section, I picked up some merchandise from a clearance table and I reveled in the calming smell of paper and coffee.
I know, I’m living the dream…or at least the suburban mom dream.
The children were ecstatic to see me when I finally returned. Daddy let them stay up until I came home, letting them binge watch Phineas and Ferb. They loved it. It was just as much of a treat for them as it was for me.
Then the TV turned off. Bedtime was announced. They shuffled their feet. They tried to give another three kisses before heading up the stairs. We heard shouting. We heard running feet… and then we heard breaking glass.
A beautiful day, filled with calm and refreshing quiet, ended with the shattering of glass.
Because, of course, something had to happen.
It didn’t annoy me. The sound of shattering glass didn’t fill me with dread or anger. I was still calm. I was able to respond to the emotional needs of the children who had accidentally hit the glass while trying to brush their teeth. I was able to respond and not react.
For the first time ever the sound of broken glass made me smile.
It reminded me that life is unpredictable. It reminded me that life is fragile. It reminded me that life is transparent and beautiful exactly the way it is.
Because that shattering, fragile glass reminded me that Glass, like life, is made beautiful in its imperfections.