i wonder if george feels so much of his life isn’t about him, like the focus drifted and the lens reset slightly off-center and now has set there so long he’s unsure if it’s okay to bring that focus back around? to recenter himself firmly in his life, to follow his own pursuits.
We did some silly things in the wind – shooting archery! fly fishing! making mobiles! – and wished we hadn’t. Even if I’m not quite ready for them, our indoor activities felt less frustrating.
Wildling sensory science, lots of home experiments + builds, then a fairy house project that turned out amazing – three beautiful houses in our front garden bed!
Long before we had kids, George and I always found somewhere to BE in the mountains this time of year. It’s just rejuvenating to meander outside as the seasons shift. Now we pretend this fall tradition is “for Wilder’s birthday.”
I am the resource, the extra hand, and the idea machine, all wrapped into one hovering parent who checks the burners are off. Luckily, I’ve prepped for this.
We spent Sunday to Wednesday running and doing, then a long Thursday of inspired reading and self-directed home projects. While we may agree on what we’re doing for the week, it’s also been tiring.
Post-Covid, we’re in a very special place where the kids play on their devices at 3pm, and that leaves me with an hour or so of often-very-interrupted time to work. And work I do.
All I heard was my shut-up voice – the one that doesn’t say that but sounds like that’s all she really wants to say. It’s tense, angry. My throat feels tight from withholding the screams that threatened inside and my muscles bunched, ready.
We’re barely beginning our book work of the year, and it’s quickly halted. Here we are, recovering quietly with lots of TV time instead of raging through our weekend outdoors.