Kneeling down on the freshly mulched straw path, I am watering a garden bed of seedlings and seeds. Ellen has crawled under the row cover (blanket-like fabric we use to keep plants warm at night and protected from insects). She is singing.
“Mama, scientists have proved that music helps plants grow,” she informs me.
I believe her. Especially when hand motions are included with the song.
I’m watching him hold his boy. Our boy.
18 years ago Jeffrey and I came here together for the first time. It was May and the lilacs were blooming. We had just met.
That summer he would take pictures of me and us with his old film camera — using a single roll of black and white film. There was never a summer as full of innocent, carefree love as that summer . . . but all these years and adventures and jobs and babies later — we still go back to the lilacs together.
The Newt Family celebrated their anniversary with a beef dinner. The baby’s name is Albert. Mrs. Newt has a blue purse. Mr. Newt has a blue tie.
Ellen needs to get lost in her world of play every single day. Play is nourishment for her. Amabel too; but Ellen especially. This is one of the biggest reasons why I still struggle to feel good about sending my girls to school. More school = less play.
I’m constantly meditating on the balance.
There are few things more beautiful in this world than watching the love between my children.