Every time I walk up my stairs, my eyes follow a long, curvy line of ink that travels just beneath the banister. I’m guessing my son is the artist, though I haven’t asked around.


The ink has been there for weeks, maybe months? I’m not sure. But I notice it everyday now.

I know what you might be thinking. It’s Tuesdays Unwrapped, so Emily is going to say how normally that ink would bother her but today she’s remembering how it represents children young and still at home. And so she’s going to leave that ink mark there on the wall as a sweet reminder.


Every time I see that ink mark, I remind myself to clean it when I come back downstairs. Then, like giving a mouse a cookie, I think how I shouldn’t just clean the ink but actually the whole wall needs painting.

I reach the top step thinking about Sherwin Williams Alabaster White and then remember reading somewhere that the White House paint is called Whisper and by the time I come back downstairs, the ink is forgotten.

Today, the gift is two-fold.

One, the ink is forgotten. There was a time several years ago – five maybe? – where ink on walls would have had me angry, searching for someone to blame. But the truth is it’s just not that big of a deal. And I celebrate the gift of my own growing up, my own ability to recognize what needs my attention and what doesn’t.

The second part of this gift? I also celebrate my children growing up. This is supposed to happen. I don’t need to try to hold on to marks on the wall or handprints on windows in an attempt to somehow preserve their childhood.

There is not something wrong with the universe when my daughter, nearly as tall as I am, can slip my shoes on to play outside and they don’t fall off.

Sometimes I gawk at her, breathless as I watch her run out to her bike with the movements of a girl but the growing body of a young woman. Sometimes it feels like the world has gone mad because this is my baby girl!

But this is supposed to happen, this growing and changing. And I celebrate a girl growing up.

I celebrate a boy who should know better than to write on walls but does it anyway.

I celebrate my almost-ten years of parenting that has taught me not to freak out about little things.

What do you celebrate today?

Tuesdays Unwrapped 2013

I hope you’ll choose one gift of your ordinary day and find the miracle secret it holds. Write it out, breathe it in, capture its image, see it new. And then come here to tell us all about it by linking up below. If you are new to this community, here is all the information you’ll need to prepare your post. All are welcome.