I found myself by the fire with a sleeping baby across my lap, so content to be that mama. The one who spent her ski day on the bottom half of the mountain. Teaching, carrying, holding, schlepping, feeding, rocking, documenting, encouraging. A different kind of badass.
In the last few months the familiar itch to Run has been getting itchier. I wonder how I could prioritize it and, more nervously, what it would all look and feel like.
I’ve heard people talk about the craziness of life like a hamster on a wheel. I think it’s more like a hike.
When a partnership introduces kids, there is a lot of letting go, a lot of prioritizing.
They say home is where the heart is and, right now, my heart beats in the walls of this space where I cradle eight years of memories in a tender fold of my heart.
I could hardly contain my heart under my ribs at her birthday circle the next day, as a room of tiny souls who adore my girl proclaimed their love for her hugs, her playground skills, her smile.
By Nici Holt Cline. Skiing was immediately a favorite family activity.
Mom feels unsettled about her daughter starting kindergarten in the fall.
If I had to name one thing that I have learned since becoming a parent it is that “plans” are really flexible aspirations; that everyone’s happiness increases exponentially with how bendy the whole approach is.
I remember the moment I truly understood that aging happens to everyone, that death is inevitable and family is everything.
