My Story

It begins with me as a youngster daydreaming about all of the things I would be when I grew up. The list was long and varied and somewhat hysterical. It ranged from teacher to dancer to hairstylist to movie actor and everything in between. Of course, I’d have children and be a mom, but that seemed more like a side job. I mean I’d had lots of kids while playing the game of Life, and I merely had to stick their little pin headed bodies in the back of the car and keep right on moving along the board toward Millionaire Estates. How hard could that be?

The idea was reinforced as I came through my teenage years in the age of Working Woman and Ms. magazine. Women could do anything, be anything and go anywhere. Doors had been flung open for us to walk through. It was the age of the Supermom. I know, because I had one.

I was educated and indoctrinated in the power of woman. I would travel, conquer and possibly even save the world. Of course, there would be children too, but my dreams never really worked out the logistics of that. I figured I was a kid once and I didn’t remember being much trouble. My mom always liked taking care of me. Right? Motherhood was a piece of cake, with extra icing and a big scoop of ice cream. I was sure that my life would be extraordinary!

So imagine my surprise when after marrying my high school sweetheart, getting two college degrees, and having two children, my life slipped into an ordinary existence that paled in comparison to the fictional lives I had spent time imagining in my younger years. Where was that big piece of cake that I was sure would taste so good? What happened to my perfect plan? Wait! My life was never supposed to turn out this ordinary.

I had taken many courses in my lifetime, but I missed Ordinary 101 where they teach you how to control clutter, open indestructible toy packaging, and have patience the size of the heavens. I missed the senior seminar on laundry and yard work and crafts that also featured how to maintain a modicum of romance despite all of the above.

One day I woke up thinking just how ill prepared I was to live an ordinary life. Four figure handbags and movie premieres — something like that I could handle, but laundry that multiplies like rabbits and dinners that aren’t drab and repetitive — Help! For a long time, I resisted this pure and simple fact: everyday life was kicking my butt and none of my current qualifications were going to help. The way I saw it I had three choices:

1. Run off to Aruba and work as a barmaid.
2. Go insane
3. Start making the best of what I had been given.

Since I loved my family too much to choose the first two, I opted for door number 3.

I laid my head on my pillow that night and realized that most nights this had become my time to think of all the things I didn’t get to, all of the words left unsaid, projects left unglued, and laundry left undone. Concentrate on that kind of stuff too long and option 2 starts seeming like a real possibility.

I told myself that for just this one night I would think about everything that I did accomplish and how much it meant to everyone around me that I did it. Suddenly folding the laundry seemed soothing. Making sure there were clean dishes became a higher calling. Just being at home so that my kids could be there with me took on a whole new perspective.

I was blessed with a glimpse of my reality that allowed me to see how much the ordinary day to day tasks could help me create a life I love. Over the next weeks, I decided to make it my mission to experiment with ways to transform the perceptions and realities of my everyday life.

During the journey, I came to some amazing conclusions. I realized it is possible to be ordinary and interesting. I realized that episodic, mundane tasks can be transformed by peppering our lives with simple ideas that can change our everyday experience. I guess you could say I did a self study course in the Ordinary, and it helped me to realize just how extraordinary my life is. My hope is that you can benefit from what I’ve learned. One thing I know for sure: The Ordinary Matters. I’ve come to believe this and I hope you do to.