lovely things

When you are a mom you often get hung up on the dirty, the messy. Socks stuffed under blankets on the couch (thank you eight-year-old) ketchup smears on the kitchen chairs, sticky orange juice residue on the floor, playdough crumbs in the rug, mounds of laundry everywhere, dishes stacked in the sink.

It's easy to do.

And the same goes for the kids we are raising.

Little guy does this snort cough clearing throat thing that makes mama crazy (recently diagnosed with asthma though so, trying to be understanding!). He whines a lot. He gets crazy obsessed with things. Little miss does this wiggling the nose, shoving dirty glasses up her face with dirty fingers, covered in playdough. She pouts and kicks when she is mad. As I type three year old is dripping shredded cheese all over the floor. Her newest fun thing is walking around pulling things off the fridge, throwing magnets on the floor, to do lists, artwork, etc. Yesterday we had a maddening 20 minute battle of wills over whether or not she would hang the kitchen towels back up after randomly pulling them off the stove hanging rod thingy and throwing them on the floor. Why...WHY?

It is so easy to see the messy. The dirty. The imperfect.

And then we look in the mirror. There we are. Grumpy tired looking messy hair once again in a ponytail. Zits at thirty (ahem ahem) age. Wrinkles in the creases of our eyes. Flubby stomach. Circles under the eyes. Crabby at dada, impatient with kids, tired, lazy.

Messy. Dirty. Imperfect.

And once you start seeing things that way, seeing life that way, it can be so hard to change your perspective.

Right?

So. My solution?

Buy a lemon tree.

Did you know I have (oddly) lusted after a lemon tree for seriously years? Dada even once tried to buy me one. For Christmas. What do you know they don't deliver lemon trees to frozen wastelands in the middle of winter. So we canceled the order. And never got another one.

Until last week. When dada's business started picking up and he sent me a text.

"You should buy a lemon tree."

So I did.

I was prepared to be disappointed. It will be a rip off. Covered in slugs. It won't blossom for years. The weather will change after they ship it and I will find it frozen on my doorstep.

Two days ago it arrived. In a narrow but tall box, wrapped in foil to keep it warm. As I started to peel back the layers I was ready, again. The leaves were snapped off, bent. My heart sank.

And then I pulled it out. Gently loosened the plastic off the root ball. Shook out the cedar shavings, per instructions, mixed it with some soil and placed it in a pot with precisely five drainage holes.

And I looked at it more carefully.

Blossoms. Just buds, but they were there.

Lots of them.

And shiny green healthy leaves.

And as the leaves unfolded over the past few days I began to realize. This little tree is going to make it. And maybe even give us lemons, this year.

And this morning??

A blossom opened, with the loveliest citrus-y scent.

A lemon tree.

Lovely things, friends. Lovely things.

And I look around this room, this rather cramped feeling room (mid-winter at least), and i see it, filled with lovely things. So many lovely things.

Including three lovely little people, who are, despite their human-ness (and sniffling, snarfley noises) lovely little people. And their mama, I look in the mirror, and see her, sometimes catch a glimpse, and she is lovely too. Scars and flub and greasy hair and all.

Lovely things.

And it is Friday. Which is also lovely. And I have two kinds of boxed wine sitting on the counter. HAPPY FRIDAY TO ME.

Wishing you a wonderful, lovely-filled, lemon-tree-ish weekend mamas!