Last weekend I was able to return to Hillsdale, where spring had not yet arrived, but where I nevertheless found my heart warm. My whirlwind weekend was full of old friends, new faces, and walks that felts strangely familiar as I wandered around my former college campus. One of the highlights (other than a dinner composed entirely of Bumpy Cake ice cream from the Udderside, which — for those who have never been to the bustling metropolis that is Jonesville MI — is the best ice cream stand in the world) was taking these engagement photos. I knew Emily through a music organization that she belonged to and in which I was a member, though my actually qualifications for belonging were ever in question. The gross rainy weather that is Michigan Spring paused just long enough for us to take a few pictures outside.
- "Art rediscovers, generation by generation, what is necessary to humanness. " -John Gardner
Lately, on InstagramI started buying myself flowers on a regular basis when Henry was born. It helped my frazzled new mom mind and heart to have a blooming thing before my eyes. The majority of the time I select white hydrangeas, as they are cheap and live so long. Henry knows my biweekly ritual, knows that our first stop at the grocery store is to select the “mommy flowers.” Last week I paused before these, only to have Henry severely remind me that those aren’t the flowers I get. I laughed at him, but what I want to say is this: our children are learning who we are by what we do. They are drawing a map of our moods and quirks and interests and weaknesses. I am constantly reminded to be careful of what I teach my children about their mother. I want to teach them that she is slow to anger, quick to laugh, eager to love. I want to teach them that she surrounds herself with flowers and friends and prayers and stories. I want to teach them who she is and work unceasingly on becoming that mom.Monday uniform. [Because our new house is high tech and judgy and that stupid smart thermostat thing guilts me into keeping the AC just a smidge warmer than I would prefer, so underwear it is for all members of this household not ashamed of meeting the endless parade of new neighbors in a stage of undress.]