Good Enough

I'm not sure that any mother ever felt certain that she was doing it just right. I don't know if any mother knew, without a doubt, that she was nailing it. I've never met the mom who had all the answers, not one I would trust at least.

Heaven knows I worry about all of my inadequacies when it comes to these kids of mine. I'm not patient enough, or engaged enough, or consistent enough. I am a flake, and I can be so self-involved.

But I do know one thing; these kids of mine are having a great childhood, and if I had even a little to do with that, I must be doing at least one thing right.

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This Weekend We: A Summer Start

Summer begins three times: the Solstice, the first day of summer break, and Memorial Day Weekend.

And the beginning is always better than the end, so I'm happy to begin summer over and over again. 

This weekend we celebrated the season with beer and crabs, flowers, and rope swings. 

It wasn't hot enough for my liking but a cook-out with friends was a nice break from packing, 

packing I'll pretend like I'm helping with even if I'm mostly out shopping for paint and light fixtures and pretty things

 while Tom is cleaning and packing, organizing and compressing nine years of life into some recycled card board cubes. 

Oh how I prefer beginnings; I'm so excited about a new house, our first house. 

I'm excited about painting and projects and possibility, 

and I'm trying desperately not to think too much about the end of this house I've loved so much. 

Maybe that's why I'm off buying  for our new home, while Tom slaves away getting us ready to leave our old one. 

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This is the face of

This is the face of a woman who is scared and excited and grateful and tired.

This is the face of someone who wants school to be over,  her new house moved in to, and eight uninterrupted hours of sleep.

This is also the face of a woman who is nervous about leaving the only house she has ever been a mother in, the only house she has ever been a wife in, the house next door to the one she grew up in.

But this face is going to try desperately to spend the day smiling and delighting in all the things that this beautiful world has to offer: chubby, baby thighs, kids learning to ride bikes, fresh strawberries from the farmer's market, a three day weekend. 

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Married: A Forgotten Post From April

When Tom and I decided to get married, it felt less like a decision and more like an attempt, an attempt to love each other a well as we could. An attempt to make a home. An attempt to make a family.

I never had to wonder if I was doing the right thing. Getting married was the right thing to do after a reckless decision made almost a year before. So I never had to wonder if he was the one, or if I was going to miss out on something better. I never had to wonder if I was ready because quite frankly, I knew I wasn't, but that didn't matter. I didn't matter. We mattered.

And I am so very grateful that I never had to decide. All I had to do was embrace- embrace the life set before me. Embrace motherhood, embrace Sena, embrace Tom.  And I've done my best to never stop embracing those things. When things or times are tough (and I am so lucky that the tough times a few), I just keep embracing, and lucky for me there are even more things to embrace now.

I love this man. He is smart and funny and great in a moment of crisis. He is generous and accommodating and patient with everything except electronic devices. He is a wonderful father and he's my friend. Today marks eight years of being married to this guy. I feel pretty lucky.

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Gettin' Old- East Some Meat

Last week Steve turned thirty. Steve who hates a lot of stuff and who has been my friend since almost the minute I got to college.

 Steve who spends his birthday fixing my stairs and then chases my kids with a drill. 

Steve who never dressed up for our theme parties or danced at shows, 

but now brings my kids old board games and bags of their favorite potato chips.

So we ate lots of meat (his favorite food is animal), drank some beer (at some point he became a Budweiser guy), 

and spent hours staring at the water, just like we did in college. 

He's a good friend; the kids spent the day flower bombing him, 

and he snuck them extra cupcakes. It's pretty cute.  

My friends I made when I was a sixteen year old freshmen are now running around with my kids while we listen to Phish from a DeWalt boombox, and everything feels so familiar, and it's all so different too. 

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