Sunshine clogs the space outside my window; it has solidity and weight, presence; it's demanding to be seen, let in, and enjoyed, but I'm not paying attention. I'm just standing in the kitchen.
Seven stories down, the snow is melting.
I can smell the slush, mud and ice and twigs, wet leaves on the forest floor, green shoots in the warm ground, and I breathe in deeply. I close my eyes. Cold wind teases through my hair. My lungs expand. My chest rises. I imagine crocuses pushing upward through the snow; they're struggling just under the surface, and my thoughts are like that, I tell myself, a row of pretty ambitions trying to take root in frigid soil. They've been squashed for years, buried under nursing schedules and articles about potty training, all that now-useless information, and now they're straining upward, but then I turn my head. I open my eyes.
Ridiculous. Really.
I cough twice and pull a sweater across my shoulders.
I was wrong about the birds though, I think. The sky is crowded with them now; the air is thick with the sound of their chatter.
Sunlight spills across the counter; it pools on the tile floor, stretching to my feet, creeping almost to my knees, child-like, clamoring for my attention, and suddenly I feel choked.
I'm waking up, I tell myself. The girls are older now, Penelope will be in preschool soon, and the season is thinking about changing, but what if there's nothing left? What if I'm empty inside without them?
I turn away.
This is so much harder than I expected.
**Finding the Bigger Picture through Simple Moments**
It's so hard to anticipate change; to know what to expect. But remember, with each new season of your child's life you change along with them. Sometimes seamlessly, until one day you look back and realize it happened. Sometimes there are more 'growing pains' involved. But just like children change as they age, so do we as parents and as people. It happened organically for me (as it does with most parents, I believe) when they are newborns, but this stage you are in does seem harder, right? Anticipating the change of season as they straddle baby/preschooler/BIG KID. But remember you have been there all along. The YOU that is not defined by schedules, potty training, discipling.... the YOU that is your spirit and your soul and love. It is easy to define yourself by what you do; your hobbies or interests or skills. It is a far greater task to define yourself by what you feel and think. And the ways those little humans have changed you, be it seamless or with struggle, that is what fills you up and makes you you. Certainly not empty.
ReplyDeleteWow, Bryna, that was beautiful...and so much better thought out than my post! :)
DeleteI think I'm struggling to re-define myself, as a mother and as a woman, as you said so well, but I also think I'm just looking for my place on the path. I haven't been able to articulate this yet -- not in my words or in my thoughts or in our conversations -- but I've always had a vision for how I want my life to unfold. I've always known what I want to do and so far I've been doing it, but now I'm almost at the next step. And I'm worried I wont' be able to take it. I'm worried I lack the inner resources, or that I'll choke at the critical moment, or that I'll *almost* realize the full scope of the life I once imagined for myself, and then -- I'll fail. I guess it's just like any other Next Step though. At some point I'm going to have to pick up my foot; it's a physical decision.
I'm still trying to figure it out, I guess. I know this comment doesn't make sense, but I love the way you likened this feeling to growing pains. I think that's exactly what I'm having -- and it's harder than I remember.
At the very least, maybe this will make me more sympathetic toward my girls when they're transitioning between stages! Growing up is hard...even when you're done growing!
I want to give hearty applause to Bryna's words! She's right -- you're not defined by the things that are now melting around you. But I can understand that *believing* you're defined by those things would make you feel completely unhinged at what might come next.
DeleteBut I also want to say: Em! Oh, the places you'll go! Your next step is EXCITING!! At least, I'm excited to see what your life brings -- what you bring to your life. Don't be afraid!
Dr. Seuss's celebrations are going to my head, apparently :)
Oh goodness, it's a Seussical week, I guess! Katherine's first book report was due today (she wrote about Fox in Socks) and all the kids in her class made Wacky Hats based on the books they'd chosen. Is it his birthday already? Has Mia's class been doing Seussical celebrations?
DeleteOkay, so I didn't mean to say I feel *defined* by motherhood (although I know I wrote "What if I'm empty inside without them?" and then I said I'm struggling to re-define myself, so this post is really a mess) because I think that implies that I'm gathering too much of my self-worth from my children, and it's not that. I just feel DOMINATED by the role...or at least I did, until recently. (Don't you guys? Have you thought about what you'll do when you don't have a baby in the house anymore? When the hours are free to stretch out all around you? It's kind of a thrill, you know, but it's also a little scary...)
Anyway, I kind of wish I wouldn't have written this post. I feel like I'm missing something.
Oh -- I hope I didn't make you feel that way! Of course I've felt dominated by motherhood. But maybe the difference is, I've been counting the hours until the domination will end instead of embracing it so fully as you've done. Further proof that you give of yourself so well.
DeleteOr maybe the REAL difference is that I'm exceptionally lazy, and I think that after the babies aren't babies, I'll get to sit around and read novels all day ;)
But I still have faith in you. You will do great things no matter what the pursuit is. And, more so, I hope the decision will come easily as to what you'll do next. Because I want you to enjoy it!
Oh, I just got lost in a maze of self-actualization for awhile. Your comment was spot-on and sweet and, just like you, amazing!
DeleteAlso: sitting around reading novels all day sounds like a PERFECT beginning! ;)
I totally relate, Emily! I feel the same, and I've got to start thinking about working again next year when Iris goes to kindergarten...and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. It can be really disheartening, for me. I'm trying to trust that things will be revealed in God's time, not mine, but that's really hard. Anyway, I know exactly how you're feeling - I think it hits as soon as the littlest one becomes more independent (pottytrained, sleeping, going to preschool, whatever) - which would be right on time for us, since Iris & Penelope are about the same age, I think. Anyway, rambling - just wanted to tell you you're not alone, not at all!
ReplyDeleteTHANK YOU! Yes! It's all mixed up in Penelope's newfound independence. I feel like I've given the past few years over to mothering, which was a good choice for me and not something I regret, but now that Penelope's a little older I feel like there's finally starting to be space for ME in my life again -- and I have to figure out how I want to use that. I'm so glad you relate! I was starting to feel crazy! :)
DeleteYou will always be a mother even when they are 60. They will always need you even when far away. I know what you mean though. I can sense the change coming too. It is just around the corner. No more bottle, no more bouncy chair, then it will be no more diapers and my baby will be off to preschool. Then what? My husband and I kind of joked today about adopting, but the idea that when Addy turns 13 as Harris just did that I will be 53 years old doesn't seem so funny. Would it be fair to adopt a child and for it to have such old parents. I know it is done every day, but does it make it right? These are all questions I ask myself. Would only adopting delay the reality that there will be a time when we have no babies in the house. I know the time has to come.
ReplyDeleteI think about that, too. For awhile Chris and I were talking about having another baby and I had to really ask myself if I *wanted* another baby or if I was just trying to delay this transition. Because of course I'll always be a mother, and I'm not so foolish as to think the bulk of my mothering work is almost over, but it's a real change when you go from *Having A Baby in the House* to *Not Having a Baby in the House*, and that's what I'm trying to come to terms with.
DeleteFor what it's worth though, I think if you really WANT another baby then the love and support that child will receive from you will outweigh the fact that you're getting older. Not that I'm in any position to give advice. I just know you're a wonderful mother!
I am the mom to two adolescent boys now. Every season, my role changes as they evolve into wonderful young men. This unfolding is so exciting, so beautiful. I switched careers to become a special-education teacher and now I have about 30 "sons and daughters" in front of me each day. I still am my children's mother but my desire for maternity has expanded and, I hope, enriched other children too.
ReplyDeleteI don't know why, but I feel like this is the first time I've faced such a definitive change since I've been a mom and I've been thinking about it as something really static, like, "first I was a mom and now I'm going to be a mom and _____ and that's the way it's going to be FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE." So I'm really glad you commented here with this great perspective! I love the idea that life is beautiful and exciting and that it unfolds season by season. I want to embrace your enthusiasm!
DeleteThank you!
I *get* this. Wow, I do. And I love, love, love the way you wrote about it -- poetic.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sarah. I'm glad I'm not the only one who feels this way!
Delete:-) You are magical with words. I remember when Vidur started playschool, I was the one crying to see him happily waving and disappearing into the warm atmosphere of the school for two hours. I was the one crying when he started regular school, which stretched for 5 hours. My mom would keep wailing about how we missed him. Then we would do things for him, arrange surprises (little ones, mostly) and eventually started enjoying the time he was away doing stuff for him. Sounds crazy - but there was plenty to fill the time, especially since we also had hospital visits.
ReplyDeleteI completely understand how you feel. I felt strangely lonely when realizations like this came to mind :-) Big hugs to you, Emily!
I remember how worried I was when Katherine started school, but now that it's part of our routine I realize how grateful I've been for these months of one-on-one time with Penelope. I'm always so interested to hear about Katherine's days, too. I want to know what she did at school, who she played with, and what she's learning -- and I'm sure that as Penelope grows away from home I'll find something to reconnect with inside myself. I'll always be glad to see the way my girls are growing and changing, but yet, you're right: anticipating the change sometimes makes me feel strangely lonely.
DeleteThanks, Vidya.
they will always be with you, regardless of how old they get... reading one post just shows what an amazing mom you are, and what a wonderful friend you will always be to them.
ReplyDeleteOh, that's really nice! Thank you!
Deletea row of pretty ambitions trying to take root in frigid soil.
ReplyDeleteThis image is so evocative. So beautiful.
The girls' pretty ambitions are starting to grow in their own right, but that won't take them from you. They still need their mother...always will. The relationship changes. I love reading your posts because they take me back. These days were so wonderful. I get wistful thinking of days gone by, but it does not diminish how wonderful these days are too. And the gift of seeing the wonderful people they grow into...I can not tell you the joy that brings.
I've loved watching my girls grow so far. Each new stage they've entered has given me so much joy, and the promise of so much more to look forward to, and I think I just need to accept that. I need to stop worrying that I won't be able to make the next leap and I need to let myself change along with them. It's so reassuring to know that the "after childhood" days are wonderful, too!
DeleteThank you.
this is such a beautiful way of putting this feeling into words. i wish i was as elegant as you with my words. i know the feeling well.
ReplyDeleteThanks for relating, Amie. This isn't a feeling I hear people talk about very often and I really thought I might be the only one. I can't tell you how reassuring it is to know that other women -- women I respect! -- have felt this way, too.
DeleteAnd thank you for the compliment about my writing! This post felt clunky and awkward while I was writing it, so the idea that it was 'elegant' is lovely. Thank you! Thank you! :)
Thank you for visiting my blog and introducing me to yours. You write so beautifully, I will definitely be back.
ReplyDeleteThank you! And welcome!
DeleteI just love this line "a row of pretty ambitions trying to take root in frigid soil." And you manage to pull off beautiful, contemplative, evocative writing even as your trying to sort out your own thoughts and feelings. You're amazing. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm not a mother, so I probably can't say anything useful in regards to motherhood. But I HAVE heard a lot of other women talk about this, and the feelings seem to range from a sense of emptiness or loss, to confusion, or fear, or a whole melting pot of all of it and everything in-between. I might not be able to talk about motherhood, but I do recognize the feeling as one I've felt before with major transitions in my life. And it makes sense. As your kids grow older and slowly gain more independence, their transition marks a change in your own identity. Not identity as "mother" per se, but just a change in what that role entails and what room it leaves for you to be your own person, as well as the ways in which it pushes YOU to grow. Times of transition are off-putting because you don't always know where you'll land. But in a way, it's like you've crossed a HUGE hurdle, and though there's more to cross, it's quite amazing what you've been able to accomplish already.
We women wear many masks through our lives. As we shed one for another, keeping in touch with the woman underneath it all can get a little tricky, but it's so very worthwhile.
You're so wise, Jade, and you're exactly right, too. I feel like I'm starting to have more room to be my own person now that my kids are getting older (which is such a great way to say it; thanks!) and that's pushing me to grow. Growing is just...hard sometimes, but it's so important.
DeleteThanks for understanding!
Change is always scary but you know they'll need you in new ways, and you'll be there to meet each of them.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely. It's just a matter of taking that first step.
DeleteYou always write the most gorgeous posts. I can really relate to this one. My youngest will be in preschool next year, too. I'll have more time, but will it be as easy as I imagined it would be?
ReplyDeleteYes! You're in the same place I am. It's kind of exciting to think of all that time, isn't it? But then, it's also a little nerve-wracking. I hope it will go as well (for both of us) as I imagine!
DeleteGood luck! :)
I understand Emily...my youngest started full day school this year. A strange thing to grasp after SO MANY years of always having a toddler/preschooler along.
ReplyDeleteI am STARTING to enjoy some time to work and enjoy time without them. But then I watch the clock and count down the time until they all come home!
:)
I remember when my girls were just babies and I'd get frazzled and worn out and my mom would say, "you just need a little time to miss them." Maybe that's the real beauty of sending them off to school. In the best situations, you get a little time to reconnect with yourself and recharge, so you're fresh...and then there's just a little time to miss them before they come home. That's what I'm hoping for! :)
DeleteI love the imagery, the comparison of your pretty ambitions pushing up through the ground like the first crocus. Beautiful writing! There are no protections from heartache, are there? Our relationships, our families, our friends - all go through changes, and it's sometimes hard to imagine that we will be all right. I try to enjoy every day, but beneath that intention there is always a the knowledge that the desire to enjoy each day is driven in part by the recognition that life will include losses. It's a conundrum that I try daily to balance, but there is no mastery of it, that's for sure. xoxo
ReplyDeleteOh, thank you! I think you're right about the possibility of loss (or the inevitability of loss) driving us forward. In some ways, I want to give everything inside of me over to my children and the idea of losing them, even for just a small portion of each day, is upsetting. But then, at the same time, I don't want to lose myself. When the girls do grow up and leave home *I* want to be there...does that make sense? And so, the idea of having time -- even just snatches of time -- is thrilling. It's a mixed-up feeling!
DeleteYes, and oddly enough, this is quite healthy. I have the opposite dilemma. My husband is 15 years older than I am, and almost from the start I have worried about losing him. But letting yourself go there, but not DWELL there- leads to the understanding that there is a life for the *I* when changes come. I have at times forced myself to envision the life I would make for myself, and doing that has actually calmed me. I do not want for it to come, but I realize that there is a productive life that I could live.
DeleteYour writing always stops me in my tracks and makes me wonder -- where did this come from? When did you go from being a beautiful, imaginative, precious little girl to being a beautiful, eloquent, deep thinking woman? I always knew you were amazing, but honestly, Em, you're even more amazing than I knew. I'm afraid it's going to be years before you have abundant free time (if there is such a thing), but I hope that in the little stretches of it that do come your way you'll be writing. Maybe you can only do a little bit at a time, but it will be cumulative and you'll surprise yourself with what you'll achieve. I think you're lucky, because when you have a gift like yours, what to do next becomes pretty clear. So don't worry about the next step, just keep writing!
ReplyDeleteOh Mom, why do you have so much faith in me? I love you.
DeleteThank you. :)
Because I know your power! You have more than you know. I love you, too.
DeleteYou're welcome :)
*smile*
DeleteYou are on the cusp, Emily.
ReplyDeleteI also agree with Bryna about growing pains. And oh how it deeply resonates. Dominic will be in kindergarten all day next year and I know what I want to do, but I also know what I'm going to do. And they aren't one in the same.
The imagery in this post was stunning. I hope that your spring flowers are leaning towards a radiant sun filled with words and more words and possibly a novel to read under a shaded tree on a long summer day. But that is just my gluttony for your literature. ;)
Wait! What do you want to do? What are you going to do? Why aren't they the same?
Delete(You need to write about this, Alita!)
Beautiful. It' quite difficult for me to define a favorite period of time with my own two. Each phase you love as much as the last one and you hate for it to pass but it does and you love the new one as much. It's never-ending. I'm sure you've realized the speed at which time passes you by. Frightening really.. enjoy and embrace each moment ( I sort of suspect your will, give your insight...)
ReplyDeleteAw, thanks! I always think there's something to love about each new phase...and something to be glad you're leaving behind.
DeleteChildhood is so wonderful and so wonderfully messy! It's all I can do to embrace it fully.
Wow. Such pretty words. You will miss them, but you won't be empty inside without them. It's a new phase. A new spring. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Kelley. I hope you're right. I hope I'll find all sorts of interests and thoughts inside of me waiting. If I think about it that way, it's exciting!
DeleteI promise you that you're not empty without them. Even if you think you feel that way.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I sit back and try to remember what I *thought* about before I had kids, you know? What did I want? What was I interested in? And it's weird because my oldest is only 6 -- it's not like I've been mothering for THAT long -- but I can't quite remember who I was without her. I think I'll probably find out that I've grown and changed over the years. And maybe my old interests will never come back in quite the same, old way, but there's got to be something there. Right? Something deeper, more mature...maybe better. :)
DeleteAs a mother who has seen her children grow up and move away, I feel the emptiness every day...
ReplyDeleteReally? I wish you'd say more. I worry sometimes that once my girls have actually grown up and moved away I'll find things to do, hobbies, but nothing that inspires me. Nothing that compares with the *passion* I feel about being a mother. Is it like that? Or is it just too quiet? There should be some kind of forum for empty nesters (is there?) or something. I mean, feel like I have all this anxiety about it and I want to prepare, but I don't know what it's really like.
DeleteI have lots of hobbies, a full-time job, and a great husband, but I miss my kids so much sometimes. I don't know of a forum for empty nesters, which is part of the reason why I started blogging, hoping to connect with other empty nesters! My ideal situation would be to live on the same block with my kids and be able to visit whenever I wanted. It just isn't possible at the moment.
Delete"My ideal situation would be to live on the same block with my kids and be able to visit whenever I wanted."
DeleteMe too, Patrice!
Ahem, Em.
Sounds good to me too, Mom! And just so you know, the apartment next to mine is empty... :)
DeleteThere are so many layers, Emily. They will unfold and peel away at the right time ... but I can relate so much. Also, you are one of my favorite writers. This piece reminded me of why I love coming here.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Hy. :)
DeleteI still have a one year old, and I feel this sometimes. I don't know what's next. I have ideas, but they're all over the map, and I just don't know. In a weird way -because I worked with infants, toddlers, and preschoolers for years before having my own kids- -because I imagine I'll continue working in early childhood ed in some capacity when my own are no longer so little- it feels like mine are just moving through this space that I'll be staying in. Like I was here before, and then -look!- they joined me, and made it so much more fun, and exciting, and meaningful. But they will graduate, and in a weird way, maybe I won't? It doesn't sound quite right the way I'm saying it, but it is a little scary thinking of them getting older than my expertise. I can't imagine them older than preschool, actually. It's like that's how far I can think, and no farther. What are your plans? I saw in a comment above that you have some! Forgive my nosiness, but I'm terribly curious! Another post, perhaps?
ReplyDeleteThis isn't the same, but I used to work in a daycare and, even though I'm certainly not an expert in early childhood development, I was always kind of a natural with small children -- and I can COMPLETELY relate to what you're saying. When I was pregnant with Katherine I remember telling people that I just couldn't imagine having a 5 year old around (and now she's 6!!). I could see myself mothering up until she was 2 or 3, but then the vision stopped. I absolutely couldn't see it. I couldn't think any farther...until she turned 4, of course. By the time she actually turned 5 it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But since early childhood is actually your WORK, you bring an incredibly interesting perspective to that problem. What I think (do you want to know what I think?) is that your kids will never really outgrow your expertise. They're not just joining you in the classroom for a few short years because you're so busy *studying* them. When they're older (even past the bounds of your imagination) you'll find you're an expert in THEM, maybe not as an age group, but as individuals. Does that make sense?
DeleteAs for me, *gulp* I'd really like to write. Something more lasting than a blog post. I have this vision of myself with an office, working while the girls are at school, sending finished pieces off to publishers, and really trying to make a career out of this hobby. I'm embarrassed to admit it though. I don't know if I'm good enough, but it's what I want. It's what I've always wanted. I guess I might as well claim it.
You're good enough! Go for it, Emily!!! Your writing is beautiful and lyrical and I think you should go ahead and claim it. Maybe that's part of why it's so scary though. Becoming a writer (or artist of any sort) is so much scarier, I think, than updating a resume and sending it out to employers. I've been debating going back to teaching vs homeschooling and figuring out some form of self-employment to make ends meet. Self employment is soooo much scarier of a thought!
DeleteAnd yes--you are so right about studying them and becoming an expert on them! When I taught parenting classes I always used to say: I'm an expert on early childhood education. You're an expert on your own child. That's why we need to partner up and work together--we need each other! I forgot that until you just reminded me!
You're beyond good enough :)
DeleteYou guys are so nice. Thank you! :)
DeleteWhat kind of self-employment are you thinking about, Katy?
Long story short: I don't know! I just have to make enough to make ends meet if I decide to go the homeschool route. I could continue to do child care, but that restricts our ability to get out of the house very often, which I think is pretty important if I do homeschool. I could possibly seek some more/better certifications & teach more yoga/ other fitness classes or become a personal trainer, or I could do some technical writing for someone/something? I just started thinking about it b/c it looks like they have eliminated school choice from my district all together, and my son would have to go to a pretty bad school, instead of the one I thought I could get him into. In fact, our district was just announced as the worst in the whole state, and I've been doing tons of reading lately on self-directed learning, which is making me rethink everything. I'll still send him to preschool, I'm pretty sure, but after that I don't know about sticking with the district at this point. The main problem is that I need some income for us to survive, so I have to figure that out if I decide to homeschool. Hence the need for self-employment.
DeleteUgh! I remember a post you wrote a few months ago where you were talking about the school you want your son to attend vs. the school in your district. I'm so sorry it didn't work out! It's terrible to think that the quality of education is so wildly different depending on your area.
DeleteMaybe the evening yoga classes you're teaching now will help clarify your situation? I'm sure it's frustrating to have to deal with all these unknowns, but your kids are awfully lucky to have such a thoughtful mama on their side. I just wish it didn't have to be so difficult!
I love watching you two talk. Sometimes I play a version of the "who in the world would you invite to dinner?" game. I'd love to hold a salon in my living room and brew a huge pot of strong coffee and have you both over to be brilliant in front of me, my pleasure being to take you selfishly in.
DeleteYou two would be non-stop conversing in real life. Hmm, when are you next stateside, Em?
Ha! I have no idea, but I'd make it a point to come to any salon in your living room. That sounds out-of-this-world fantastic! :)
DeleteThere are so many sweet moments when they are little that you wish could stay right there forever. But then there are also moments when they are whining and dependent and you long for them to be older and more self-sufficient (at least I did). But the reality? It doesn't change overnight and they still need you even when they are older. You will grow out of this stage and find beauty in the people they are becoming while you fit yourself back into your own skin. It's good that you cherish The Now but don't fret about the future- it has a beauty of it's own.
ReplyDeleteHa! Yes! There's so much to cherish about each phase, but there's always a reason to look forward to the day when they're older. That's a good reminder! :)
DeleteI was cutting my husband's hair tonight, when he said, "Don't get mad at me for saying this, but sometimes I wonder if you are staying at home with the girls because you're afraid of going after your own career." Yes, that is absolutely part of it. I got my Master's degree out of the way by the time our second (and last) child was born but after that, we started military life and my original plan to get licensed as a counselor kind of died. Despite my career being on hold from the military, I found myself WANTING to be at home with my kids. I felt like I needed to be here for them during these early years. And now that we've found out we're moving to Japan this summer (Yokosuka), I've decided to homeschool my 4-year old instead of sending her to preschool and I'm not sure how long homeschooling will continue. It's SCARY to think about my daughters going to school because I'm not sure what the heck I'll do with myself. I tried to explain to my husband that it's not just about what I want to do anymore, it's about what I want for my kids too. Getting a job scares the pants off me because I'm a mother. I like mothering. I'm not sure I know how to transition out of it.
ReplyDeleteBefore kids, I thought it was ridiculous for women to complain about a lost sense of purpose when their kids weren't home anymore. I thought it was a horrible thing for a woman to describe herself as just a mother. But... now, that's me.
Okay, first of all, I'm so excited that you're moving to Yokosuka! And you're coming this summer? (Hooray!) Do you have any idea where you'll live? That's very cool!
DeleteAlso: Yes! Motherhood is a strange dichotomy. In some ways it dominates you -- you feel like you're disappearing into this abyss of Goodnight Moon and The Princess Stories -- but at the same time you're being asked to draw from every part of yourself every day. You have to be creative and structured, nurturing and stringent, practical and prone to flights of fancy. In that way, being a mom allows you to be more fully yourself than anything else I can imagine. It's no wonder we worry we'll lose our sense of purpose once our kids get older!
(Oh, and I think homeschooling sounds like a good option. I know there are some great places to explore with a preschooler in Yokosuka. You'll have fun!)
We have to report by the end of July and my husband's first week of work is Aug 6-10. He's a doctor and will be at the Naval Hospital. I have no idea where we'll live, but I think we're going to try to stay on-base. The whole reason I stumbled upon your blog a few months ago was because I was doing Google searches for blogs from families who have made the same move. Do you know how much longer you'll be stationed there? I would love to see a familiar face when we arrive!
DeleteMy husband doesn't have orders yet, but we're expecting to move sometime in late-summer/early-fall. We should be here when you guys get here though. We'll have to meet for coffee!
DeleteBig boo that you're leaving! You'll have to introduce me to any cool mom-friends you've made.
DeleteAbsolutely!
Delete---Hilary,
ReplyDeleteYou are an artist.
Coming here feels familiar. I adore how you write in the present tense &
take your reader w/ you on your journey.
I am there. I smell the snow. I taste the cold air.
Your words are beautiful.
Oh! Thank you.
DeleteBeautiful. And you will never be empty. Your words say you have way too much soul. Stumbled across you via fancy this, fancy that.
ReplyDeleteKiran
What a lovely thing to say, Kiran. Thank you!
DeleteI'm so glad you wandered over!
I find the image of sunlight creeping across the floor and demanding something so interesting. In one sense, it is restrictive, demanding, choking. In another sense, it is a piece of the outside world that you are beginning to feel blossoming as your children grow older. Beautiful piece. Right now my kids are 2.5 and 6 months so the days of 6 and 3 are hard to imagine. But I believe that when they come, I will feel this way too.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sarah! That image was actually the reason I wanted to write this post, so I'm glad that made sense to someone!
DeleteAnd it may get even more difficult....as I think of my youngest daughter, born in 1983, moving away after vet school, I ache. I just ache.
ReplyDeleteOh, I'm so sorry. It's great that the world is so open and full of opportunities now, but it kind of makes you long for the days when people stayed close to home and in small communities.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you --