Here you'll find current musings, as well as the archives from two blogs of yesteryear: YoungMarriedMom and What I Learned While Writing a Novel. Please comment and share. We love well when we are in conversation with one another.
We’re back from our trip to Boston, and it feels so good to be home–home in Brooklyn, and home in myself.
Over the long weekend, we had a wonderful time catching up with friends from BC and Harvard. (A benefit of going to college in the same town as your husband-to-be is that you end up with a geographically-concentrated group of friends you both love.) I believe it was that time, those friends, those conversations, those hugs that have made me feel “normal” for two days in a row now. No stomach bug. No trouble getting up in the morning. No doubt as to my ability to get through the day. Plus, a happier Jacob!
What I have now is the fear of when the more debilitating effects of grief will strike again, because I know they will. In the meantime, I also have pictures.
Dancing with Alex, who makes it so easy to relax, even if Jacob is banging (or breaking) all her pots and pans.
She managed to fix delicious French toast we could eat freely around Jacob, plus she had an avocado and a whole container of blueberries for him. He ate all but eight, plus the strawberries she’d intended for us.
Still hungry, Jacob chewed on Daddy’s leg.
Family photo! I’m in about seven percent of our pictures, because I’m so often the one taking them.
Oh, Gracie. You popped a hole in an air mattress I once slept on, leaving me to wake in something like an inflatable cocoon. Now, Jacob wants to be your friend. Too bad you’re not so interested in being his.
Then we played basketball with Uncle David.
And made a new friend.
Sure, I love Brooklyn. But Boston–and these ladies in particular–will always have a special place in my heart.