It takes less time to do thing right than it does to explain why you did it wrong.

On celebrating the mundane milestone

wedding picture

This week, Tom and I celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary. “Why, Mel!” I hear you saying, “You must have gotten married when you were just a baby.” That’s very nice of you to say. We were babies, actually. Each of us is lucky that the other turned out to be such a lovely human being, because when you are that young, sometimes it is hard to tell for certain.

Anyway, nine years is not generally cause for a big hulabaloo – that will be next year, the big ten, of course. Still, nine years isn’t nothing. We had a lovely, two part celebration. Pre-Game: Ray LaMontagne at Red Rocks with one of Tom’s old friends who turned out to be a very nice person. Day-of: bacon at breakfast and dinner with two good friends and our baby. It was a low-key, laid back, simple kind of celebration – just the way to celebrate nine years of a low-key, laid back, simple kind of marriage.

Thinking about celebrating our odd-year anniversary got me thinking about other things that we’ve been celebrating lately that seem out of sync with the normal celebration calendar.

 
Tom and Remy brushing teeth

This summer I’ve been working about four days a week, which is a lot of time away from Tom and a lot of time away from our adorable baby. I just want to take the opportunity here to say what an amazing dad Tom is. He is amazing. Honestly, it’s good for me that I have milk-producing boobs in my column, because the sheer number of awesome-parent things in Tom’s column is a little overwhelming.

So I’ve been working. Tom is awesome. One day I come home from work and Remy crawls right up to me. He crawls. I am going crazy – Remy, my baby, is crawling. It is amazing. It is better than anything that has ever been done. My child is a genius child.

Looking back, probably Tom had not only seen Remy crawl but had carefully coached him, maybe for days, to pull off this particular trick. But Tom did not smugly sit back and watch my ecstatic exaltations. No, Tom, my amazing husband of nine crazy years, joined in the jubilation as if this was not the second or ninth or twentieth time he had seen Remy totter across the floor, but the very first.

That one ecstatic moment was clearly one to be celebrated. But Tom’s celebration with me has gotten me thinking about all of the lovely moments there are to celebrate in the minutia of everyday life – in the mundane. For many months now, I have been working on being intentionally present wherever I am. Still, celebrating the mundane is something I needed to be reminded of. Every morning should be a bacon-at-breakfast morning.

 

What beauty have you seen and celebrated this week?

Remy crawls through rainbow tunnel