The Broken Spoon

When my parents split when I was 16, they divided everything in half in terms of most of the "stuff." Then my mom and dad ended up giving me the bulk of it when I was in my twenties. Dishes, albums, turntables, random furniture and pictures were given to me. The dishes are the ones that have followed me everywhere; every state and home I've ever lived. 

I found some of my childhood dishes. I mean little ceramic plates with horses and flowers on them for kid-sized things. There are spoons with ceramic dog and cat handles and of course the Christmas-related dishes we dust off once a year.

I used to guard these kinds of things carefully. I was never one to buy a bunch of "nice things" so the things I did have that were nice, I loved and kept close. I was a collector of random stuff...until I had kids. Then I wanted no stuff, and certainly nothing of value. Everything gets broken at some point and anything can lose sentiment as we grow older and the memories fade out, so most things we have now just center around functionality.

In 10 years together my husband and I have never been able to agree on a dish set. In my first apartment, my mom got me purple and maroon striped matching everything and my husband loathed them. They were replaced by my parents set of light blue Pfaltzgraff and we wore those to the bone. We still have them, they now just hide in "retirement" for special occasions only or if necessary at all. We have a random array of IKEA, Bed, Bath and Beyond, and JC Penney stuff from over the years but nothing special.

I used to have little decorative things all over. The dog took down a few of them but one ceramic bowl I painted at one of those paint your pottery places? Yeah my daughter broke that on the tile within the first 6 months after we bought the house. It didn't bother me. It served no real purpose except that I made it and it was now one less thing to dust.

The bottom of the butter dish that was my dad's and is older than me that matches nothing but I refuse to give up? Yeah my daughter grabbed something from the counter and rocketed that thing right off into 50 ceramic shards, again on the tile in the new house. That one I was pretty annoyed with. She apologized but I knew it wasn't really her fault. This is life, it's messy and things break often.

Something kicked in when we got the new house to where I just didn't care about having "nice things," anymore I was just so grateful to have a house of our own. We've never bought furniture from a legit store other than IKEA. We have lived off of hand me downs for quite some time.

We got a pull out couch from an auction right before I had the baby. We had completely trashed that thing by the time she was 3 years old. It was ripped and torn and falling apart. We got a replacement faux leather one that got ripped by dogs and just wasn't even that comfy. Our newest couches were a gracious gift from someone we love very much and I scold my daughter for mistreating them and say, "We will never get nice stuff like this for free ever again!"

I got a bunch of free stuff from an old boss too, including a piano. Total score! None of it matches or is even really my taste but free is for me. It has never occurred to me to go buy matching things honestly, because I feel like I have no one to impress and with kids and dogs and life, who wants to look like they live in a museum? I want our place to look like we love our home.

Sure there are some coffee mugs I just love and would be bummed if they broke. I have some favorite salt and pepper shakers and such but things break, and some you can fix, some you can't.

Last night my daughter had her go-to dessert, ice cream with chocolate syrup and sprinkles. I always ready the bowl but make sure she gets her own spoon.

She was enjoying her dessert and Netflix and then she came running into my room in full on hysterics. "Mom, I'm so sorry. Mom, it just fell and I just, I BROKE THE SPOON!"

There it was, a little headless puppy spoon in two pieces. I said completely calm, perhaps even deadpan, "Hey, it's fine. It's just a spoon. I'm not mad or upset, not even disappointed." She still wasn't completely calm. I then explained that accidents happen and the only way she would have been in trouble would have been if she hadn't told me or if she lied about it.

At first I was anxious and upset that she thought I would unleash the "momster," on her but I understood that I had warned her so often that things would break on the tile (because they will) that she had a fear about it, but also she is knowingly sensitive to when I raise my voice. Then I looked closer and realized we could probably glue it anyway, but regardless, it just wasn't worth the energy of getting mad.

She came back into my room to talk about it more and I just told her, it was fine. It was just stuff. It was just a broken spoon. Maybe it is all part of the priorities, the growth, the perspective, and the stuff I've been writing about this entire year, but sometimes it really is just a broken spoon. I've spent so much time and energy being mad about silly things and I now realize it was more a projection of my anger that my life was in such chaos and that I had no control, rather than being legitimately upset about the smaller things. 

What is that saying, "Don't sweat the small stuff?" Well I've spent years sweating! Now that I have a handle on things, it seems as though I can breath easier on such things and am far less balmy.

I understand my daughter's "fear of telling," the grown up. I was generally afraid of getting in trouble often. I can't pinpoint why; I don't even remember really being yelled at. My daughter seems to have that same sentiment. In younger years as I mom I would yell or overreact so things wouldn't fall down or she wouldn't get really hurt. After the car accident, I seem to have been taken down a peg or two in terms of that kind of anxiety. You learn and grow as a mom and you definitely pick your battles!

I told her not to be afraid of me and I appreciated her telling me and guess what? I Gorilla-glued the spoon. It is drying and I plan on surprising her. The whole incident felt blog-worthy as another example of just how things can evolve. Maybe 4 years ago I would have cried it out and felt such a loss of the nostalgic spoon, but even if I would have had to toss it, me and that spoon had a good run. 

I'm hoping I can keep this vibe going and translate it into other things as well. We'll see!