Maybe it was when Pinterst boomed, and I realized I may be the only mother buying a birthday sheet cake from the grocery store on the day of the party.
Or maybe ordinary became negative as I watched others wrestle their dream with two hands and nail it to the wall.
Ordinary seemed less than when I strolled the rows of Home Depot, saw the million plus counter top options, and realized the green stuff lining my kitchen is just plain, sub average.
Ordinary became the picture where half the people were cut off, and no one was looking at the camera.
Ordinary meant I wasn't trying, or worse, I just didn't have it.
As a doer, this way of thinking is unacceptable, especially in the year of risk.
But then contentment, who is usually hidden, jumped up and down and screamed for me to notice.
She reminded me Ingles, store bought cakes are yummy, and I am actually living my dream.
She sat me down and said the best pictures are of life and not of posed moments in front of barns.
Oh, and you won't believe this, but she also pointed out my counter tops aren't lame green, they are borderline retro, and retro is in, baby.
Sullivan girls living the ordinary.
Linking up with others as we pound out words for five minutes on a give topic. This week's topic? Ordinary.
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