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Motherhood, Olive

What even is this?

Oh hey there, I’m just popping in with a very quick post to say that I may have drastically underestimated how adept Olive is at trolling me and/or I am killing it with this whole parenting thing.

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Almost two weeks ago, Olive turned five.

I didn’t write much about it then, and I told myself it was because I was so busy with her birthday party and her family dinner and the excitement and preparation and post-party exhaustion that came with both.

That was partially true – I love birthdays, and I love making hers special, so I am usually completely pooped by the time it’s all over – but I also just really didn’t know how to write about it without leaning heavily on cliches, or composing a post that was just a single long exhale and a slowly whispered, “Five?!”.

So much of this seems beyond the realm of possibility.

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The Rumpus 2017

I lie down beside Hilly on the raft and she begins to read Dune to me unprompted, picking up where her own silent reading left off.

Lying with my eyes closed, I can hear Olive paddling around in the shallows with the waves lapping against her little floatie tube. She happily chats with Lizzie and Mawney while Claire relaxes in the background and my mom putters around on the porch.

It’s been five days of this. Lake swimming and family time; meals prepared and eaten and cleaned up; watching all of these moving pieces coming together to form an ecosystem we’ve been building since the day we were born.

We get together like this every year. We call it The Rumpus.

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Motherhood, Musings

A Day In the Life

I’ve been meaning to write this post for weeks (OK fine, months) and the fact that I haven’t had time to do so yet is kind of perfect, actually. It’s fitting that the only time I’ve had time to write about our life is when a big piece of it is missing. Olive’s at her dad’s and I finally have some silence. Some space and room to think.

Each time I thought of sitting down to write this post I’d remember eight other articles that had to be completed first and on the rare occasions when my writing slate was clear I’d sit here and wonder what the hell a typical day in our life even looks like these days.

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