16 // 52

16 // 52 // Lillia
16 // 52 // Zane

“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2015.”

Lillia: This week was school vacation week. As soon as you learned that many of your friends and classmates were going away for the week, you expressed your displeasure at the fact that we never go anywhere. I remember this a little bit from my own childhood; my mom stayed home with us for a long time so for most of my childhood we lived on one income, meaning that we couldn’t go to Disney World or the Caribbean during every school vacation. And, your dad and I have made the same choice for our family. This is something you probably cannot appreciate now, but I hope that someday you will look back and feel that the trade-off was worth it. We can’t travel the world just yet, but you do have a mom who picks you up from school everyday, who is home so that you don’t have to go to school when you are sick, who is home during the summer so that you can go to the pool instead of going to camp. I hope you will find some value in that someday.

Zane: This week was your school vacation week, too. The weather hasn’t been stupendous, but we have been getting out as much as we can. You’ve been working really hard on learning how to use your scooter. I swear, nothing in the world is more adorable than a tiny little guy zooming around on a scooter. You were helping me do yard work, too, with your new wheelbarrow. We finished clearing out all of the flower beds, and we raked the whole backyard so the new grass can grow. I appreciate your help so much, and I love that you just instinctively want to be helpful without being asked. In fact, I think sometimes I could use a little less help…no, not really, I’m just kidding! Your desire to help seems to grow out of your desire to be involved in everything I do, to participate, and to learn; that is a wonderful thing.

today is my birthday // i’m 34

today is my birthday // i'm 34

All night my heart makes its way however it can over the rough ground of uncertainties, but only until night meets and then is overwhelmed by morning, the light deepening, the wind easing and just waiting, as I too wait (and when have I ever been disappointed?) for redbird to sing. — “A Thousand Mornings” by Mary Oliver

I’ve been dreading this birthday for weeks, even though thirty-four is a very minor adjustment from thirty-three. And, yet, something about the even-ness of the number, it just seems so much closer to forty, and forty is unbearable. I’m sure all of you who are over forty and reading this are hating me right now, but does it not seem absolutely impossible even to be thirty-four? I recently spent a couple of days going through all of my old school papers, and it caused me some distress. Surely this little girl, who was me, would be beside herself with despair to learn that that she hadn’t accomplished anything of note by the age of thirty-three (now -four). The whole exercise plunged me into a sort of mid-life crisis.

That’s not to say I regret all of my choices. I’ve been home with my kids for almost six years now, and it is the most precious gift that my husband could have given me. Truthfully, I never want this part of my life to end. But, the end is terrifyingly close! I am thirty-four, and I have no career and no idea what I’m going to do with myself when my son starts school in just a little over a year. I am thirty-four and there are so many things I have not done, and probably never will do, and that is heartbreaking.

Thirty-four feels ominous. Thirty-four feels like panic.

Still, there is this: when I was making my coffee this morning, the sun was shining on the surface of the pond behind our house, and everything was sparkling, and the birds were singing, and it just felt glorious to be alive and to be part of this astonishingly complex and beautiful creation. So, I’m going to tell myself that whatever God has planned for me, I will take it. I will try not to panic or despair, and I will look forward to the moments of jubilation that exist amidst the uncertainty. I will try to keep my heart and mind open to the possibilities that still lie ahead, without dwelling too much on the path not taken. None of that will be easy, but it is my best option.

Today is my birthday — I’m thirty-four — and, despite the ambiguity of my current situation, I am very happy to be here.

* I wrote a post on my birthday last year, too.

at the park

This weekend we visited the Ashuelot River Park in our hometown of Keene, NH. We used to go there frequently before we moved to Walpole, but it’s been a long time since our last visit. Spring is slowly arriving in our part of the world. At the park there is a gorgeous white magnolia just starting to bloom (which may be over-represented in these pictures…I couldn’t help myself), along with daffodils, forsythia, and the most adorable carpet of glory-of-the-snow that reminds me of the bluebell forests in the Lake District in England. [Lillia took the photo of me and Damian.]

at the park
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at the park

our week // vol 7

Even the prick of the thistle,
queen of the weeds, revives
your secret belief
in perpetual spring,
your faith that for every hurt
there is a leaf to cure it.


— from “In Perpetual Spring” by Amy Gerstler

our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7
our week // vol 7

15 // 52

15 // 52 // Lillia
15 // 52 // Zane

“A portrait of my children once a week, every week, in 2015.”

Lillia & Zane: Egads, this week was rough! You both look happy and smiley in these photos, but the truth is that the three of us spent some large portion of the week severely under the weather. I caught a tummy bug from my brother and it quickly made its way through the house, only sparing Daddy! So, you both missed a bunch of school, but at least you both recovered in time to enjoy your Spring vacation week. Here’s to healthier days ahead (fingers crossed)!