My 39, Day 27.

When I first decided to chalk paint the back kitchen door, it was based solely on aesthetics. One too many scratches left from wear and tear by the former owner (their German Shepherds, I’m fairly certain), and my $10 solution.

It’s rarely left blank, and has ended up becoming one of my favorite spots in the house.

When not filled with the week’s spelling words, it’s lined top to bottom with sketches of princesses and superhero hideouts, complete with backstory narratives as told by the little artists who reside here.

After it had cured and I’d bought the first 16 pack of Crayola chalk sticks, I’d had grand intentions of getting all Pinterest-y with beautifully sketched messages by season.

But that would have a) taken way too much time, b) made me reluctant to let the kids take a wet wipe to it and draw what they want instead, and c) suggested that we live in some alternate Pottery Barn catalog universe of perfection, which we most certainly do not.

There are enough other areas of the house where I can be style inspired to my heart’s content. This is one spot, though, that will remain theirs, and theirs alone.

Unpredictably enough, it’s also a spot where they’ve asked to communicate with us.

This past week, after four nights’ worth of skill drills on telling time, our older one faced a test on the concept the next day.

“Daddy?” she whispered the night before. “Can you leave me a little note tomorrow? For good luck?”

And so he did, in his typical fashion – going beyond a generic well wish and writing with specificity.

Despite being up late the night before, and knowing he’d be long gone into another crazy morning before she ever woke up to see it, he did it anyway.

One shade of chalk, one straightforward message, and one minute of thoughtfulness for a little girl’s day officially made.