Introducing… Momdays!
"Happy Momday!"
That's exactly the title of the shared note my mom surprised me with last Friday. I was in between work meetings and was in "grind mode" - but before even opening to read the note, I felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over me. My emotions continued on a euphoric and nostalgic rollercoaster as I read her sweet note shared with me and for you all to read.
So without further ado, the first official Happy Momday!
rolling into the first Momday like…
For anyone who knows me, I'm an old soul. I get notepads each Christmas because I love paper and pencil. I imagine past families' stories in older homes. I am probably the one person (other than my husband) who doesn't use social media. I pull over for a funeral procession to show my respect. You get the idea. So when posed the question, what lights you up or fills your happy cup, one first thought is family dinners.
On Sundays when I was younger, we would cram into our tiny Volkswagen then head to my grandparents. You never knew what cousins might be there but you always knew that food would be plenty. Regardless if you had to sit at the old table on the porch or with a TV tray in the family room, the Matthews dined together.
Throughout the week, I would sit at our round oak table peeking out cafe curtains (probably olive green or printed with strawberries) and wait for my dad. Dinner was promptly ready when he pulled Old Red under the carport. Most were pleasant, some were not (the Johnsons were definitely not the Cleavers).
But we were together.
This continued when I had my own family and everyone had their special spot at the same oak table. From toddlers to teens, conversations were definitely interesting. Sometimes you offered condolences for the dead parakeet or praise for the five-hour recital in which they danced for six minutes. Sometimes you just could not unhear the latest FHS gossip.
Always engaging, always together.
Fast forward to 2022, family dinners are still treasured, the table is larger, and everyone still has their special spot. Dogs beg endlessly for scraps (oops, my fault). Praise is given to my granddaughter for mastering her spoon. News is shared (or debated).
Still engaging, still together.
The round oak table now resides at our lake home and will hopefully endure another 50 years of interesting conversations. My husband made the old porch table into a child’s table so it continues on with snacks, puzzles, and imaginary play. Even when my plate is full, my happy cup runneth over!
~Momma Lappe