Sometimes you walk by a window in a house and you just look in and think man, that’s what it’s all about. A dim light on, a fire lit, a family sitting around a table, a person reading a book, a mom folding laundry, a kid peeking out the window. All stereotypical, all sometimes rare to see, but when you do, you just get that feeling.

A reminder that this is what it’s all about. I’ve been thinking so much lately about seasons of life, in particular the one I am in now. Winter, pregnant, toddler, sickness, work, laundry, paper piles, dish piles, snowy boots, candles, baths, tea pots, books, 9 pm bedtimes. That’s just the physical season. But the bigger season, the one of growing a family, of moving homes, of expanding physically, emotionally and mentally. Of learning how to exist independent of how you grew up. Of reminding yourself that you’re full of courage, strength and love. Of being a parent, of having to kiss boo boos and get up 5+ times in the middle of the night to settle a cough, or rub a back. It’s all wrapped up in this one chunk of time.

And as tough as it is sometimes, I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to be too busy, or scheduled to feel like I can’t be present. I don’t want to push aside the small things that eventually amount to the big things.

Aggie has a few little games that we can play together – one is this really goofy box set called Dog Dominos. It’s literally different types of dogs on either end of little cards (that would normally be numbers if you were playing ‘real’ dominos). At first when she got it, she just chewed on the edges of the cards when we she was teething. Then we used the cards as tiny phones to make really important phone calls. After that, we started to recognize that some of the dogs were the same so we would vaguely match them up. And now, we bring it out and sit on the floor together and actually play. She gets a stack and I get a stack and we go one at at time, placing our cards, matching them up, talking about the different dogs until we’re all done. She gets particular about which way they line up and sometimes moves my cards so she can place hers where she wants but the point is, we’re interacting in this insanely amazing friend like way. Like real friends who joke and play and hang out. And I freaking love it so much. And do you know what I love even more? The moments where I actually stop to play with her. Sometimes it feels like there is too much going on in the realm of domesticity that it there is this pressure to keep moving from one task to the next. Lately though, I’ve been stopping more and more to just take those moments when they present themselves to me and be in it. Because for a long time there it was survival and learning and adjusting to what life was going to be like with a baby. And now there are moments of slowness to relish, a personality to get to know, and an exterior world that exists for us to interact with it however we please.

I was recently over at a friends house and were talking about rhythms. She was telling me that it’s taken her about four weeks of her husband taking the car to a job away from home for her to truly get into a good flow with her 3 daughters at home. I so so so get that. Last June through August I let Aggie’s nanny go and we just spent the Summer months together. It took us a while but finally we found this magic balance of me working from home more intensely through nap / bedtimes and reserving the day for genuine play and exploration. A new beach, a park, a train ride, or even a simple walk around the block. Not pushing ourselves to get in the car and drive too far, or making too many plans. I think that’s been a big part of it – just allowing myself to embrace the things that make us feel happy and letting them dictate the day or the flow. When we honour those little things, like not getting in the car if we hate it, or looking for a home with a huge outdoor space because that’s where we envision ourselves putzing about whether it be to garden or to explore, we give ourselves a little more room to be good. To feel settled and like we’re choosing our time and our rhythm. So that in those moments when we’re looking from the outside in we know that we’re not doing something just because we feel like we have to, or like we’re trudging through our days. We can know in our hearts that we’ve made the conscious light and love filled choice to be here, and do this thing.

There are nights when Jeff gets home at the perfect time, dinner is somehow ready, Agatha and I are sitting down, candles are lit and I get up from my chair and put on a record. It’s in that moment that I see things from above. As though maybe someone is filming us? Or looking down over us? Or there with us? All I know is it’s special. It’s so freaking special.

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As the month of love comes to a close I feel:

-beautifully pregnant for the first time in a long time

-despite the days of little sleep and lots of in and out of bed for a sick toddler, I feel strong, like I know I can do this again for another tiny human

-full of more trust than I have been in a long time (in myself, in my family and in my life)

-excited about finding a home of our own and despite what everyone says, just feeling so deeply that I’ll know when the right one comes our way

-like embracing the mess and the messy

-that this new little one’s name is become clearer and clearer to me

-like I married a really special human to walk through this season of life with

-ready to get small in my space, to let go of what we aren’t using and make room for what’s to come

-curious about the intentions I set at the New Moon and what’s to come of them

-closer to knowing what anxiety and stuck energy feels like inside and knowing deep down that I can move it

-excited about learning and filling myself up independant of everyone else whether it’s through reading, writing or just doing something with my body

-so full (in a good way) about Agatha becoming a big sister and having two tiny girls under my wing for a little bit of this juicy life