I’ve noticed a lot that some people are obsessed with the extraordinary — they want extraordinary weekends, extraordinary lives, etc. And what it boils down to, is just that not everyone can do that. Sure, I dream about having that amazing job that I don’t cringe at having to go to, and sure I dream about those extraordinary family vacations.
But what is wrong with just having a lovely, ordinary life?
We spent this weekend just eating doughnuts, chilling in Avondale Park, eating popcorn and watching movies and playing with blankets and pillows. I absolutely love my weekends spending time with my two favorite guys, but in no way do I feel the need to make anything more than it is. We live in an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood – are not rich or famous, nor can we afford fancy ass clothes or incredibly expensive toys. No one can look at us and pinpoint anything extraordinary — except maybe that our love within our family is extraordinary.
Seeing how much that little booger loves his dad and wants to do everything that he is doing is extraordinary.
How Sheffield holds my head in his hands to make sure he plants a big ole wet one straight on my lips is extraordinary.
How B will get up and open a bottle of wine, because he knows I need it is extraordinary.
We don’t need extraordinary things to know that the little family full of love we do have, is extraordinary.
But there is definitely nothing wrong with ordinary.