It is only an hour time difference but it feels like the moon is tugging against the sun, a force that keeps me in bed. I am tired but I am wide awake. I get up.
Andy is up next. We sit across the living room from each other with our coffee. Sunlight creates a sharp warmth across the billions of pet hairs on the floor. We talk in the quiet, about big and little stuff. About how to be there for a friend in crisis, about planting spinach, money, chicken run expansion, our disagreement last night, skiing. Our pets vie for our attention. The sun spills across the entire room now. The kids wake up and nudge our thoughts into present tense.
Mom, make your hippie pancakes!
Blond bed heads, nightgowns, bare feet, bruised shins.
Margot immediately, furiously pens the book she’s been working on. It is called The Poor but Happy Village. She takes a break from that story line to spend some time copying several books for practice. I think about how we’ve been informed that she is reading “below benchmark” and decided, again, not to think another thing of it.
Ruby rolls with the cats, the dog. She gathers her army of stuffed animals and dolls, each with their own bling. Every critter wears carefully curated bits of fabric from my scrap pile. Safety pinned to the cheek, tied around the wrist, wrapped around the belly, draped over the ear. Their names are Horsey, Bluey, Hooty Owl, Makeup, Oil, Frogy and Zara.
Loud music, lots of helping hands in the kitchen, spilled water, dog poop on the rug.
I take Mabel outside, in my bathrobe, coffee in hand. I can see my breath but the sun whispers SPRING.
We will go skiing, as we do every weekend. Andy and I load the crusty old green bin with dry mittens, helmets, goggles as the kids protest, saying they want to hula hoop instead. We fill a backpack with quesadillas, carrots, apples and chocolate blueberries. We make a thermos of tea. Get ready buddies, Andy says to the kids every two minutes in response to whines. They get ready.
Ruby, I am pretty sure those leggings are cotton. You might want to change.
Margot, how many layers are you wearing today? I think I will just wear one slippery shirt because the sun will feel so warm.
We leave the house a mess and drive our filthy car up to the ski hill. Our church. A cloud of dust rises behind us as we climb closer to the snow line. Her socks are bunchy and hot and weird and so uncomfortable! Tears over the socks. I unbuckle and contort my torso around the beige seat that is marked up from Alice’s once-muddy paws. Our car dings incessantly to remind me I’m unbuckled, Ruby holds her breath in sock anger. We bounce through muddy potholes up the mountainside. I fix the socks.
Giant crack straight up the middle of the windshield, puppy on my lap, NPR humming on the radio, windows down.
The kids still ask for a boost onto the chair but their growing limbs don’t need it anymore. This is the first year I don’t keep a firm grip the back of their ski coats as we ride up.
The old chair creeps higher and higher, thoughts spill out.
Mama what if this whole mountain was made of food and you could just take a bite of snow and it was suddenly peanut butter?
That crow is flying right by my face. She is staring at me.
Mama I wonder what it feels like to be a cat or dog. Do you think it feels a lot different? Probly hard to not talk. Probly weird to have four legs. Probly awesome to run so fast.
They love the trees, jumps, going fast. Ruby sings the whole time. Sometimes she makes pirate AARGHs. Margot laughs. Andy and I stand at the top of a steep slope and watch our offspring fly away. He says wow look at them go. I will never forget dreaming of this exact day when I nursed a newborn in cool, sleepy January light.
We hit the grocery store on the way home, for coffee and spinach. Margot brings her book inside. She doesn’t look up once. Ruby is hungry for the fifth time that hour.
We make pizza for dinner. The kids pick out their clothes for tomorrow. They are tired and quiet. They hear our neighbors playing outside and are suddenly infused with adrenaline. They squeal and run down the hallway, still in ski clothes. They slam into the front door and fling it open, grabbing hula hoops, shouting as they run away, Tell us when dinner is ready!
A glass of wine, punching dough, muffled girl giggles, hungry pets.
My friend’s mom died this morning. I call my mom. I can’t stop thinking about my mom. Ruby was with me when we visited two days ago. She watched me lift my friend’s mom onto her bed with hospice staff while my friend administered a syringe of morphine saying, It’s ok mom. Open up little bird.
I burn the pizza. We eat it anyway. At the dinner table Ruby asks if we can do thankfuls but she doesn’t want to go first.
Margot: I am thankful for the things we don’t have to worry about like they have to worry about in Little House. Like kerosene, warmth, food, school, coal, my home, family and wood. Those are the most important things.
Ruby: I am having a hard time thinking of a thankful because my brain is thinking about Olive, Alice and our friend’s mom and how they all died.
Andy: Take your time buddy. I’ll go. I am thankful for the sun.
Margot: Oh and I am thankful for skiing, playing with my friends and also the suuuuuuuuun!
Ruby: I am ready. I am thankful for our cats, chickens and puppy. Mama, how about you?
Me: I am thankful to be sitting at this table with you chickens right now.
Margot: Mooooom. You almost always say you are thankful for us. Pick something that happened earlier today.
Me: Fair enough. I am thankful for the conversations with you two on the chairlift.
Margot: Knock knock!
(who’s there)
Orange!
(orange who)
Knock knock!
(who’s there)
Orange!
(orange who)
Knock knock!
(who’s there)
Orange!
(orange who)
Knock knock!
Orange you glad I didn’t say…oh wait. Oops.
Knock knock!
(who’s there)
Banana!
We never want to clean up after dinner. We often don’t do it. I dislike waking to dinner dishes more than I dislike cleaning up but it still happens often. Tonight we clean up while the kids take a bath. He scrubs a pan, I wipe the table clean. We talk about the week ahead. He turns 37 on Friday. I like him so much.
We hear a scream and another. One sister pinched the other. She hit back. We hollar for them to try to sort it out without pinching or hitting. They do. It was about a bouncy ball wrapped in a scarf and how to best secure the tiny rubber flamingo to the scarf’s end.
I climb into my bed with my daughters to read Little House, as we have done nearly every single night for a year. They play rock-paper-scissors to determine who gets to be on the “light side” – the side of the bed by the light. Some time ago they decided the light side was the best side. We are almost finished with The Long Winter. We are all gripped by the story. We read and pause often to imagine the darkness and hunger and boredom. We read and pause often to readjust covers, scratch backs, locate the bouncy ball-flamingo-scarf and talk about our plans to visit the Little House sites on a road trip this fall.
Wiggly legs, the soft way they say mama, clean sheets, trying to shelve tomorrow’s to-do list that keeps running through my brain.
Ruby falls asleep just a few pages in. She always does. Margot doesn’t want me to stop reading when it’s time. She never does. I lay there with two, heavy-breathing girls, their bodies the exact shapes of my contours and think about getting up but fall asleep instead. I always do.
:: :: ::
Tell me, what is your thankful?
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45 Comments
I loved reading this. All the big and small important things all tumbled out. A day. <3
Thanks Grace! I always love hearing from you. xo
I’m thankful for coffee this morning, the soft spring air here in Asheville, and the three women I saw on the way to the cafe who I know, who pulled over in their cars to say hello, who I got to invite to my birthday party (30!!) in person instead of via text, because the neighborhood is young and friendly and small.
You just inspired me to add that question to the end. I’m thankful for your thankful friend.
I am thankful for friends who show up in the presence of a hospice bed, homemade birthday cakes and an amazing online community that inspires me with words and pictures and truth. xo
A road trip of Little House places. Nice! It’s on our list.
thank you for sharing this. these words are helping move into my day with gratitude and patience for my family on my mind instead of fabricated urgency for my gotta-do list and tasks.
I am thankful for warm blankets and couches on which I lie down during my babes’ nap time. I am thankful for this guaranteed hour of quiet that I just spent a portion of reading this lovely reflection. I feel like I traveled while reading this, which is my favorite way to relax. xo
Just beautiful. Reading this makes me want to start writing again so that I can document life with my two girls. My youngest just turned six months, though, so my free time is scarce. I’m thankful that you share your art. Also, my hubs turns 37 eight days after yours does.
Beautiful! So loved the composition of this piece!
I am currently thankful for two job interview offers. Hope on the horizon that we’ll be closer to family (location wise) soon.
Love this Nici! The small moments, perfect and imperfect, are the ones that matter most!
I am thankful for the upcoming weekend, for springtime, and for health!
Loved this essay, Nici!
Oh, how I loved this. And I’m thankful for the two sleeping boys in my arms 🙂
I am thankful for our new pup and the healing and hope and joy he’s provided for our little family. Although it’s a lot of work, having a 2 year old, 4 year old, and a german shepard pup, he fits right in. I’m thankful for the sun as well. And thank you. I love how I can FEEL your writing, truly a gift.
As always, thanks for sharing your words and a slice of your days in Missoula. It’s a balm for my homesickness for the mountains, and a joy to share in the thoughts and adventures of a like-minded mama. Sunshine to you and yours!
I really enjoy reading your posts. You say so much without using any extra words.
I (the left-side brain part of me) was wondering whether or not the one who falls asleep first ever cares about missing part of the story…. does she need a recap the next night? I would, but I guess I am uptight like that!
Oh my Ruby. She doesn’t usually want a recap. She picks up where we left off and asks 1.25 questions before falling asleep. Books after 6pm = Ruby slumber. Our conversations are so much about these books that I think she feels “caught up” just though the next day’s conversations. I love that you asked this question though! Very sweet. <3
Love this! Everything family life should be. I am thankful for the warm springtime weather that will allow me to finally start working in my garden this weekend.
Your writing makes the everyday event seem special – which it is. I am away from home a lot for work at the moment and so miss the every day – bedtime stories, dinner mess, small girl melt downs and all – I am thankful to you for reminding me how important it is to live in the moment – happy weekending to you all:)
I am thankful for salt of the earth friends, with rows of jeweled colored canned goods in their kitchens. Those who celebrate children, animals, and stop to admire the seasons.
I am thankful for you.
Also: Africa. How that great continent makes me feel alive and useful. How I hope to one day do something worthwhile for her and her people.
Library books.
Small kindnesses — the stranger who holds the door.
My parents
My love
My brother
Clearance dresses that fit like they were bespoke
A garden that grows like it doesn’t know the desert oven is in pre-heat, not full blown.
Handwritten letters
A great photo that captures the moment
Vintage linens
That’s enough for today.
That’s a fantastic list. I love your list. I am going to write you a letter. And the next time you’re here we will shop for vintage linens. xo
Hand written letters! YES, me too!
I am thankful that my newly turned 6 y old still says every night at dinner, “mama, what are you thankful for for”… as in….lets do thankful fors. the same child who believes that its beginning and be-end, below and be-bove. i’m thankful for for that.
Have you captured that on video? I am suddenly realizing I don’t ever take video and want to *capture* a few key things that I know will change so soon. Be-end and be-bove is so SO awesome.
Thinking…I want stealthy video that records it just as it is. I don’t want the pressure or cumbersomeness of the screen facing them. I want it just for our family. Maybe I need an eyelid camera installed?! #lookingintoit
What a treasure this story was. I’m thankful I read it tonight, after a long day. I’m also thankful for cookbooks and blooming daffodils, warm spring days *almost* ready for flip-flop wearing and the excitement of the beginning of a Little League t-ball season.
I’m thankful to know I’m not the only one who leaves dinner dishes for the next morning. Great piece, as always!
Thankful for nursing a snuggly newborn in the middle of the night and for just this post to read while I’m up. And thankful for looking ahead to the sleeping all night and skiing all day.
My favorite post of yours in a long time!
I’m so thankful for Spring and the promises it whispers. The garden is calling and I can hardly wait.
I’m thankful for my village of friends who love my kids and so many fun times spent with them.
Also – thankful for mamas who focus less on “below benchmark” and more on lifting their kids up and helping them see how amazing they are!
Your writing inspires me. What a beautiful day. I’m thankful for the sap that just began it’s yearly run. And for my almost 5 month old baby that slept 9 hours straight last night!
I am thankful for being a daughter who had a wonderful Mother, who taught me so much, which helped me raise two incredible children AND now I am rewarded even more by being a Grandmother.
This was so good to read, love EVERY word…and I love you Burb…
xoxo
Thank you Nici for arriving at just the right time. And for the glorious bunch fo daffodils that went with Mom on her next journey. And for just being there for me.
I absolutely loved reading this. What an amazing thing to document so beautifully. Your everyday. You inspire me to do the same.
I am thankful for this morning at 7 am when my 9 year old boy lay in my lap while I rocked him like I did a million years ago. He looked at me and said “mom, you’re comfy, let’s do this again tomorrow”.
Goodness. Heart melter.
Nici, I always love your words. I found myself teary-eyed reading this, with the mix of happy moments, everyday beauty, sadness, daily children arguments, all of it. Your writing is so beautifully poetic, thanks for sharing!
my eyes well up with tears as I read your story, your average day. I also have two daughters 1 and 4 and know that someday this will be us. It’s beautiful, raw, lovely. Thank you for sharing, for touching the heart of a stranger and making me feel a little less alone in this world.
Dig:
Love your photos and stories. They remind me of when our two boys were young. I’m jealous that you are so in touch with your family and your life, but still in your 30s. As I look back, those years seemed to have raced by for us so quickly. Ah, but life gives us another go at it. Grandkids. I sure enjoy mine now. I can’t imagine how good the grandparent stage will be for you, since you are nailing the whole thing on the first try. I’m thankful for life in Montana – we are all so lucky!
Thanks for your words of encouragement but I want to say: it’s not like I’m there, like I’ve arrived at Being In The Moment. You know? For me, it is a practice. A way of being that I practice daily. Some days I’m better at it than others. Some days I feel like I didn’t pay enough attention…it’s a wild time, in our 30s. Money is tight, small kids, careers are growing. It’s a lot to happen all at once! I hear the grandparent thing is pretty awesome. Hard for me to even imagine that phase. But, yes, I know it’ll be here before I know it! 🙂
I’m thankful for you and your writing and it always reminding me to enjoy the moment. Thankful for the brightness late in the day, a whole week off with my family next week, and the silence right now as my two monkeys are getting along quietly while I watch tv with my hubby.
Awesome day.
I love this post so much! I can’t even…
My thankfuls: spring, poached egg that I’m eating right now, birds out my window, blue sky, my two littles. X
I enjoyed this post very much. Finding beauty and matching words for the ordinary loveliness of a day.
I’m thankful for…
the opportunity for second chances
unconditional love – from others + for myself
librarians + storytellers
a good thrift score
the natural world in all its beauty
the friendships of women
my family
a new chance every day
Thanks for sharing your words and being so authentic. You’re my favorite blogger and I admire the way you are living, raising those girls, tending that garden, running your business and enjoying this one precious life!
xo
I never comment, even when I caught up on your blog after a few months away, and read the post about Alice, and cried my face off, because it was the most beautiful piece I had read on love and loss and family in a very, very long time. But, it has stuck with me, and I shared it with people important to me, because it struck a very real chord with me. I am thankful for writing that peels my heart open, and makes me relish the every day.
I am thankful that my first placement as a midwifery student is going so wonderfully, and is everything I ever dreamed of. I’m thankful for the honour I was given to catch my first baby, with his mama, last week. I’m thankful, so unbelievably thankful, that there are so many women who are happily willing to let me learn with their bodies, so that my hands can become literate in the ways of pregnancy and birth.
I’m thankful for my community, my family, my friends, my preceptors who will hopefully one day become my colleagues. Thankful for my dog, Wombat, who always reminds me what unconditional love looks like. Thankful for blogs like this that let my mind drift off and happily daydream about the family and house and life I hope to have. Thank you for your words. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it before, but your words have meant so much to me over the years. Thank you.
And I am thankful for this hearty comment! I have a feeling you will be one amazing midwife. xo
I missed this post, but wanted to comment anyways!
This one speaks to me SO much. The bunched up, annoying sock, the knock knock jokes, and the thankfulness. It is right where we are in life right now, and I just love it. So much.
Right now, I am thankful for my husband. He’s the one I need to tell me when I’m being ridiculous, when I’m being to hard on myself, or on others. He brings me back to what is important: our life, our family. To get rid of the wants in life, and be thankful for what we have. We have so much (maybe too much – want a few feet of snow from our non-mountain location!?). He knows the key to a happy life, is a simple life. That, and a bottle of wine.
Also – the sign in your kitchen “We’re all in this together”? I love it. It reminds me of a song (same title) from Sam Roberts. Check it out; it’s a great running song.
xo J.
Look at this. I go away for a few weeks and come back having missed a giveaway?! How unfair!! Congrats on your well deserved successes. I’ve only just recently come across this blog (I’m still not sure how…Pinterest I think…) (The cocksucker?) (Forgive me if you have no idea what that is…it was funny trust me, can’t remember if it was here and too lazy to look right now)
ANYWAY, always lovely to come round and see what you’re writing.