I would like to introduce you to my Frankenpot. I figured that the timing was apropos since Halloween is just around the corner, but honestly, it's a story for any time.
It's also the perfect example of the old saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and since Exquisitely Unremarkable is all about finding beauty in the everyday, I thought I would share.
I mean, honestly, what could be more everyday than a broken pot?
Our tale begins many years ago in the land of no children, where everything stays just where you put it...and intact. I had come down with the decorating bug sometime after high school and was loving the process of making our first house a home when I bought this little number at Marshall's for $9.99 (the price tag is still stuck to the bottom of the pot!).
I don't know why I liked it so much, I just did, which was rather odd, because I am not generally a fan of faux flowers.
Either way, this little gem wormed its way into my heart and sat happily on one shelf or another in my living room for about a year.
Until.
Until, a certain someone was born and systematically un-decorated my home at every opportunity.
From the start, I have loved being a mom, it was definitely my calling, but while the baby filled my heart and my home in a way that no piece of furniture or accessory ever could, I did not like the décor changes necessary to accommodate a baby and then toddler.
Either way, this little gem wormed its way into my heart and sat happily on one shelf or another in my living room for about a year.
Until.
Until, a certain someone was born and systematically un-decorated my home at every opportunity.
From the start, I have loved being a mom, it was definitely my calling, but while the baby filled my heart and my home in a way that no piece of furniture or accessory ever could, I did not like the décor changes necessary to accommodate a baby and then toddler.
There were primary colored pieces of plastic furniture everywhere. My shelves and table tops were either empty or padded or covered in soggy board books. While I was loving motherhood, the aesthetic had a lot to be desired.
Somehow, that pretty little pot managed to go unnoticed by baby for about a year and a half. It had been tucked into a corner of our built-in bookcase and camouflaged against the white paint, I suppose.
Somehow, that pretty little pot managed to go unnoticed by baby for about a year and a half. It had been tucked into a corner of our built-in bookcase and camouflaged against the white paint, I suppose.
You can catch a glimpse of my pot in the background.
Well, one evening while making dinner and very pregnant with baby number two, I peeked in on my husband and little one from the kitchen and watched in horror as my husband tried to get the pot from my daughter who was holding on to it...like a ball, ready to pitch.
Instinctively, I called her name and she knew by my tone I wanted the pot. So, she did what any toddler would do ~ she giggled and ran. She was halfway across the room when daddy said, "Come on pumpkin, give daddy the pot!" She did, good girl that she was and is, she tossed it to him...and missed.
It smashed into several pieces on the floor. Baby laughed and daddy laughed as she was scooped up and away from the broken pottery.
Me? Oh I cried.
I cried a lot.
It was irrational, but I was very pregnant, very tired and the house was under construction, as we were adding a bedroom and moving a kitchen to make room for baby. Our home was in total disrepair, completely undecorated and the broken pot was just the last straw.
Instinctively, I called her name and she knew by my tone I wanted the pot. So, she did what any toddler would do ~ she giggled and ran. She was halfway across the room when daddy said, "Come on pumpkin, give daddy the pot!" She did, good girl that she was and is, she tossed it to him...and missed.
It smashed into several pieces on the floor. Baby laughed and daddy laughed as she was scooped up and away from the broken pottery.
Me? Oh I cried.
I cried a lot.
It was irrational, but I was very pregnant, very tired and the house was under construction, as we were adding a bedroom and moving a kitchen to make room for baby. Our home was in total disrepair, completely undecorated and the broken pot was just the last straw.
I'm not proud of my behavior, it was just a stupid pot from Marshall's. I had bought it for myself, it wasn't even a gift. It had no real meaning whatsoever.
Until.
Until that day.
That pot has been with us for well over fifteen years now. I hate faux flowers even more now then I did then, but that silly Frankenpot is the most beautiful home décor accessory I own.
It's not that it was a great story, my daughter didn't do anything prolific and I cried like a spoiled teenager over it, but as the years go by and the memories get fuzzier, I can only recall the sweetness.
Until.
Until that day.
That pot has been with us for well over fifteen years now. I hate faux flowers even more now then I did then, but that silly Frankenpot is the most beautiful home décor accessory I own.
It's not that it was a great story, my daughter didn't do anything prolific and I cried like a spoiled teenager over it, but as the years go by and the memories get fuzzier, I can only recall the sweetness.
Those cracks represent a time when our family was tiny and so much was brand new. I see the house where we started out. I recall my daughter's baby face lighting up as I call her name and the flash of that devilish smile. I see my husband, glue in hand, trying to make his exhausted, fat wife feel better.
And I envision my swollen belly, the wonderful promise of another baby to come.
It's a busted pot and yet it's still making me smile. It truly is exquisitely unremarkable. Not bad for $9.99, huh?
Do you have a "Frankenpot" story to share?
That is such a beautiful story it actually brought tears to my eyes. I love stories like that. Old scars that remind you of stupid teenage dares, notches on and marks on the door where you measured your kids when they were small and now Frankenpots!
ReplyDeleteOur children are still young but I hope to look back on some of their frustrating moments of today with the such great fondness tomorrow.
Thanks for sharing and for the silly hormonal tears (me, now, not you, then!)
Thank you for your sweet comment, Serena! Time is great for putting everything into perspective, that is for sure!
DeleteThat cracked pot is a bargain at half the price.....no, actually it's priceless. I also got teary reading this story, it reminded me of those precious fleeting days when our kids were small. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, JC...it goes by way too fast, doesn't it?
DeleteThat pot is beautiful and honestly I would rather have a pot like that, that has a story, than a brand new one from a store. My kids have "un-decorated" many things in my home. lol I love that phrase.
ReplyDeleteThanks Debbie! I do love that pot and I try to keep that in mind as my kids are still "un-decorating" around here! :)
DeleteGlad it made you smile! :) Thanks for the lovely comment.
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting my blog- I had to drop over and check yours out! Nice blog- great story-I can certainly identify with it. Superb writing, as well. Have a great week. Deb @Kneaded Creations
ReplyDeleteThanks Deborah ~ so glad you popped over! :) Thank you for your lovely words!
DeleteYes! Trust me there are lots of things around here that have "seen" and been through it all and I am happy to toss them (think headless Barbie dolls and an innumerable amount of stuffed animals) but for some reason that pot is a keeper!
ReplyDeleteLove your styling :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks Madeleine ~ that's very sweet!
DeleteVery much identify with your story I have 2 teenagers and things always get broken but it happens and its a lovely story thanks for sharing I'm visiting from inspiration monday. I'm lorraine at http://lorrainesresources.blogspot.com
ReplyDeleteLorraine, I wouldn't trade them for the world, but it would be nice to keep my stuff intact! Sometimes! Thanks for visiting and commiserating with me! :)
DeleteWhat a special post. Thanks tons for linking to Inspire Me. Hugs, Marty
ReplyDeleteThank you Marty, it is very sweet of you to come to my blog every week to check out the post I linked up.
DeleteI loved your sweet story. So true to life and with special memories. Your Frankenpot is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThanks Babs! It really is a cute pot, even with the cracks! It's funny how in the days and months immediately following I would look at the pot and grimace and yet now, with the passage of time, I see it and smile!
DeleteI love this, we all need a reminder to remember what is really important in life:)) I should have saved a few of my children's "un-decorating" pieces. Just pinned and will be sharing on Facebook as one of this week's features at Freedom Fridays:))
ReplyDeleteHugs
I am really flattered Evelyn, thanks so much! I don't know why this particular piece has stuck around so long, it really is so broken, but I am glad that I have held on to it! :)
DeleteI am so glad that my story spoke to you Camila. I am not a material girl, either, but I agree that sometimes the emotions we feel for a person or a special time in our lives can get transferred to an item. Keeping the "stuff" becomes a way to hold those dear memories close. I hope you do get to open your boxes sometime soon. Thank you so much for your very thoughtful comment~
ReplyDelete