One thing you don’t know about my people is that the women in my family tend to go through periods of hyperfixation– Avery can get into a lunch fixation that will last for weeks. Her college roommates once said…”It’s time for the broccoli for lunch fixation to be over.” Something about the smell of the concoction had brought them to the end of their patience for her obsession.

My mom holds the title for my earliest fixation memory. For an entire year, EVERY.SINGLE.THING that had a “scent” in our home was the smell of Gardenia. To this very day, when I smell Gardenia, I am about 10 years old in my house at 1214 16th street and my mom is talking about how she will NEVER get tired of Gardenia.

Until she became VERY tired of Gardenia and the fixation stopped or was transformed to a new one. I tell you about these to preface the story I refer to as the Biscotti Incident of 2017.

You see, my mom got into a BIG biscotti fixation. You know Biscotti, right? The traditional Italian cookies known for their dry, hard, and crunchy texture. She was obsessed and would eat them while she drank her coffee (a lifelong hyperfixation, btw) in the morning.

Before I continue here…we need a slight pivot. You know my husband is NOT the hyperfixation type…he is the consistent, constant, this is what I’ve always done so this is what I will always do, type. Hyperfixations are messy to him…and LORD KNOWS THIS MAN HATES MESSES.

So…back to the Biscotti. One time, my mom stayed at our house with our children while we were out of town for a few days. Both my mom and my mother-in-law were dream people to have in our homes because we almost always came home to a house cleaner than we left it. The toaster oven would be scrubbed to a shine, or the silverware drawer would be cleaned of whatever it is that dirties a silverware drawer. It was always fun to come home and see what magic they had prepared for us or what leftovers were in the refrigerator that would keep us from having to make dinner for the next few nights.

On this particular visit though, we got home late and sort of fell into bed right away. As I was drifting off to sleep, (because these were younger days when I actually still slept easily), I heard a frustrated SIGHHHHHH from Jason’s side of the bed. Although I REALLY wanted to feign sleep, I reluctantly asked him… “What’s wrong?”

His answer came in the form of a question: “Did your mom sleep in our bed?”

Me: “I’m sure she did…why?”

Him: “Did she wash the sheets?” (you know by now this really isn’t a question but a set up…)

Me: “ummm…well…she usually does…why?”

Him: “Pretty sure she didn’t.”

Me: silent…waiting…

Him: “You know how I know?”

Me: “nope…but I bet you’re gonna tell me…”

Him: leaping out of bed with that same frustrated sigh…

“BECAUSE I’M ROLLING AROUND IN WHAT IS CERTAINLY BISCOTTI CRUMBS!”

The sheets were already starting to be stripped from the bed before I could stand up and honestly after I started laughing hysterically because, of course it was Biscotti crumbs and I don’t know why that hit me as the funniest thing ever at that late hour but I’m sure fatigue played a part. Retelling the story to my embarrassed mom the next day brought just as much laughter though, so I think there was also just something humorous to me about watching a grown man twitch out of bed over Italian cookie crumbs left behind by his mother-in-law.

I started thinking of this story recently, because for the first time in a few years, we have everyone home, under one roof. Both of my older daughters are home, Laney in an internship, Avery, graduated from college with a new career, and a wedding on the way this fall, and Miss Edy, always the go-with-the-flow youngest child, just waiting to see who is at the dinner table each night.

To be honest, when I realized the housing situation for the summer, I was elated at the idea of having a full home one more time before Avery gets married. Every mom knows you never sleep better than when all your chicks are under your roof and I was going to have that for three entire months!

When everyone first came home, I started noticing the telltale signs of a full house that any parent can see. Grocery bills went through the roof, laundry machines were battled for, and the “who gets home first and gets to park in the driveway vs the street” competition returned in full force.

In addition, the messes returned.

You already know the ones…dishes in the sink instead of the PERFECTLY EMPTY dishwasher next to it. The shoes everywhere, the piles on the stairs that everyone walks right past on their way without picking up. Straw wrappers, empty Starbucks/Dutch Bros/Swig drink cups, and half-drunk water bottles.

Around this same time, I spent time at both my mom’s apartment and my in-laws’ house, and I noticed something. Before that, though, I must mention that both of their homes are extremely tidy, and my mother-in-law’s house doesn’t have a floor that couldn’t be eaten off of. Jason once told me, “Dust doesn’t dare show its face in my mom’s house.” That being said, I started to notice there were tiny areas of “mess” in their spaces too. The difference though, was that I found myself smiling when I saw them. The desk at my in-laws with shirts hung over the chair and papers covering the surface, her chairside Bible and sewing kit, my mom’s water bottle that she never leaves without, her coffee cups, her books as she is always reading, even her collection of elephants that cover most surfaces of her space. All of these “things” are what makes these people I love so much, seem like them and “them” seems like home.

So, before the frustration of my own home’s messiness overran my previously mentioned elation over my full abode, I started trying to see some of these piles as just “temporary crumbs left behind.” Because very, very soon, the everything wedding-related piles will be gone, the stairs will be clean, the shoes will be far fewer in number, and the driveway will be free of cars for another year or so until Edy starts to drive. There will be tidyness in places where there was previously chaos but their absence will signify that my house is quiet again. Or…quieter than I probably like. Which certainly means it’s emptier than I like.

I recently found myself actually following through on this new approach as I realized I was smiling inside my own home as I looked at the dining room table one morning when my future son-in-law, Ben, was visiting us. See that picture at the top of this blog? That’s Ben’s habit of doing a daily crossword puzzle. Something about the nature of a typical 75-year-old’s hobby being trapped in the body of a 23-year-old man makes me smile so hard. Seeing that book, next to his coffee cup and water, made me so thankful that sometimes, the “crumbs” are additive. It made me realize that our expanding family brings in brand new “crumbs” that remake who your family is with them in it. I wonder what Avery will leave behind at her wonderful new in-laws’ house that will be uniquely her. I hope it’s something as charming as a crossword puzzle book.

I have about 5 weeks until one kid leaves for college and about two months until one leaves for her own messes in her own home with her own family. And someday she will sigh as she picks up shoes and puts dishes in the dishwasher and she’ll call me with frustration that no one takes out the trash but her and I hope she begs me to come over and stay with my grandbabies so she can get out of the house for awhile. I will clean her toaster oven and her silverware drawer and I will fill her refrigerator with food so she doesn’t have to cook.

And I will revel in the crumbs.

Except Biscotti. She’s safe from Biscotti in the bed. I’m pretty sure that’s a one-time only laugh.

Ben, you’re welcome.