I’m stubborn. I love misty blue mountains in the morning, wild fairy lilies scattered across my yard, strong cups of coffee to wake me up in the mornings, lightning bugs in late summer, and ordering takeout far too often. I have four kids five and under, which probably makes me insane in every way possible. I thought I was a dog person, until I had a dog and kids, and then I realized I very much am not enough of a dog person to continually invite that sort of crazy into my life. I like words. I like languages. I’m raising my kids to be bilingual in a language that is almost entirely useless in our corner of the world. My husband is a tooth guy and constantly tries to improve my toothbrushing habits. He’s gradually winning. Puzzles are my happy place. Photography is, too. One day, I’ll figure out how to work in it again. I’m allergic to citrus zest and people constantly think I’m making that up. It really has wrecked havoc on my cocktail drinking abilities. Once upon a time, I loved to travel. I still do, when there are no children, pack n plays, or diapers involved. I dream of taking my kids camping and then I think about the reality and laugh at myself. Right now, parenting in a house with electricity proves to be enough of a challenge. I’m homeschooling my oldest, but so far that has mostly involved us learning to actually find time to sit down together for ten minutes a day. Next year maybe we’ll manage 15 minutes. Life in the time of Covid is hard work and mostly the kids and I just scrape along, cheer when the kitchen manages to stay clean for ten minutes, count down the minutes till dad is ours for the weekend, and explore our new city with as much hiking and playground time as we can manage. Welcome.
A Pattern of Words 