We’ve been living well this summer. Lots of camping, swimming, playing. Being, breathing outside. I often say that I am at my best when in nature and it’s true. I believe it for my kids too. And I believe it for us, together as a family. I say we don’t subscribe to any particular faith but do: The Church of Outside.
In the tent, Margot still pinches Ruby in protest of her wearing her hair just like her big sister. On the river, Ruby still turns inside out when she feels a thing is taking too long. It’s not like the journey into the wild alleviates all our suffering. But it all feels so much more darling and manageable out there. We escape to a microcosm where we can’t get away from anything (and yet we are away from everything!); where building a castle out of river rocks with the sibling that just hucked a Go Fish! deck at your head is the meditative answer.
I am always completely honest here and this next subject will not be an exception: I feel dread over the start this year’s school start. Yes, I feel excitement and joy with and for my kids, but me in my selfish little brain and heart? I ache with this change. The truth is, even though my daughters are perfectly happy growing taller and getting older, I’d push the rewind button if it were available to me. Without even checking in with them or my husband.
August 26 marks the end of 7 1/2 years where I’ve been with one or two kids most nearly all day, every day. During these first years of motherhood, I have discovered a deep well of fulfillment, peace and mission. The entire trajectory of my career and lifestyle bent with their births in the most surprising and satisfying way.
Well-intentioned friends are quick to remind me that I write and make things and the expansive time of a school day will feel like mimosas on a mountaintop to my creativity. My autonomous siren will be all “Heyaaaay you sexy six hour chunk of time! Wanna have a threesome with the laptop? I’ll bring my attentive self and so much coffee. Let’s go for a run first. We will get shit done.” They remind me that it’s good for my kids to have enriching experiences without me. My imaginings of their unfiltered thoughts are cut the cord; don’t lose yourself; chill on your sentimentality sister.
I’m not afraid of being alone in our home, or – more to the point – I am not nervous about “what I’ll do with myself” when I’m not with my girls. I look forward to throwing my guts at some projects that have been brewing in my brain for years, waiting for the time…holy shit. This time.
photo by my friend, Sarah
Margot can suddenly swim many laps in the pool and is trying out for the Sound of Music. She’s reading and wants a bikini. She reminds me of an elk. Ruby can climb any tree on this planet. She can make any human laugh, any animal want to cuddle. She reminds me of a caterpillar.
Maybe angst is one strand in the Braid of Change. Nervousness, twisted together with fervor and courage makes a strong rope of Most Things Worth Doing.
I said up there that I’d rewind time if I could but I’d never trade tomorrow for yesterday or vice versa. It’s not wholly true and a silly exercise anyway because – thankfully – we have as much control over the order of time as we do the number of freckles on our daughter’s cheeks (53) and at what age our hair goes gray (32).
Sometimes being in my brain is just plain uncomfortable. Right now I am feeling all the feelings over this impending adjustment. My Braid of Change is more akin to a messy fishtail that’s been camping for a week. And because I plan to camp for the rest of the summer, I am embracing the practicality of the dreadlocked ponytail and focusing on this here: my kids are confident, smart and adventurous. My job is to support them in themselves. They are ready for everything. They are thrilled for school. I am thrilled to watch them shine light on everything in their paths. Go.
Let’s stop thinking about it so much. Let’s just live it up.
25 Comments
Ah so good. My oldest is starting kindergarten and I can only imagine what it will feel like when my youngest (number 3 on the way) starts school. Totally makes sense to not want to cut the last of the mommy cord. It’s scary and exciting..and scary. Good luck! Can’t wait to read all about it :-).
You got this!
My youngest just started kindergarten. It wasn’t hard for me at all. The thing that is killing me is having all of us cooped up in a school all day long. I teach, so we all started back together in July and my heart aches for days spent lazily around the house with them both. So, the act of having two kids in school isn’t really the problem, it is that I want to squeeze every possible second out of summer.
It’s too long! That school day. I get it but, for our family, it just feels too dang long! And I get you about aching for the being together all day; it’s a big reason we are considering homeschool — I could spin out on that thought but instead I am giving energy to public school being the right choice for us, now.
And, what a gift for you to have the summer off with your kids! Something I aspire to. I worked very little this summer (thanks to my rock star coworker) and I am so thankful for all that time together. Lastly, thanks for being a teacher! Your work is so so important.
We’re going to be trading places!! AHH- the great shift! Currently, I’m the one having threesomes with my computer and a cup of coffee for long hours every day. I’ve had a LOT of me time in the last 30 years, a lot of it put to good use, a lot of it wasted. Every morning I wake up encouraged by the thought of an iced americano (summer) or pourover (winter) and the bright, caffeinated productive morning hours. By afternoon I’m antsy and bored and tired of myself, reading dumb shit online, cleaning the kitchen AGAIN, ready for something else in my life. And now David and I are staring down the barrel of parenthood (we hope!) (no announcement there, nothing to see here, just something we’re going to start…uh…’actively thinking about’ which is reason enough to get giddy) and anyway, the thinking is that in a little bit here the idea of 5 (or 50, or 500) solid hours of writing time will be a distant memory. Want to pass the baton as we pass one another on the track?
Your photos are brilliant as always. Envious of your emerald waters. My neighborhood river is chocolate milk. Nice river, ancient river, but doesn’t photograph well. So happy you spent so much time outside this season. I think you’ll grow to love this new phase of life. I know you will.
Your friend in chilled gin,
Melina
Baton passed!
I can’t imagine cleaning the kitchen AGAIN.
Maybe you should come in summer instead of spring next year? Then we can jump into those emerald waters.
I love that you are ‘actively thinking about’ parenthood! I remember the first time I met you, you talked about being a mama someday…you’ve been through a lot since then. I look forward to watching your life unfold from here. xoxoxo
There is so much to love about this post. Your pictures are stunning! Ruby in the water with the long, wild hair, Margot’s profile (she’s a beauty), Mabel, dogs, rocks, that water…all so beautiful. Enough to make me forget about snakes & bugs & bites…everything I dislike about camping…but you sure seem to do it right. I love that you’re raising strong, daring, fearless women. I think you’re awesome & I thoroughly enjoy your photographs & your writing.
We were out your way last week, visiting my husband’s family, and I so wanted to bump into you at a park or the farmers market, just to look you in the eye and say thanks for your words, your photos that bring Montana mountains across the plains to us in our not-so-new-anymore Iowa life, and to say we’re in this together this fall, with youngests starting kindergarten and the sudden loom of time to make some long-treasured dreams begin to ferment, and yes, oh!, ALL the feelings. Keep on, Mama!
I would have loved that too! Shoot me an email next time and we’ll make it happen. 🙂
All the best to you as you navigate your all-the-feelings next chapter.
I was in Missoula too, last week, wondering if I’d recognize you at the Tuesday market if I bumped into you! I love what you said about being your best selves in nature. I say the same thing about our family. We are at our absolute best when my 5 and 7 year old boys are playing with sticks and rocks (and their parents are enjoying some sun by a river). Bliss!
Burb….pure beauty in your words & photos….you are a wonder…AND you are my daughter…
love you to the moon and back
Oh, I love this. Have conceived of emotions as a braid before, too, wound together, inextricable. What a lovely evocation of a particular moment in time, perched on the edge of a big change. xox
My youngest went back today – ugh 11th grade and I have the same feelings. The time we get to spend “just being” with them feels so short. I love the following along with you as you raise up your girls ans as one on the far side of the journey I can say you are doing an amazing job of giving them wings and wisdom and a safe loving spot to land.
As always, thanks for beautiful photos and writing – another sneak peak at your wonderful lifestyle.
Celebrating your joy at how beautiful and full life is now, *and* hearing your pain at recognizing that the natural way of life is change. This parenting is so complex! So joyous! So fraught with anxiety and big feelings. So many of us are holding your hand along the journey. xo
Oh! How often we mothers have to adjust — preschool, kindergarten, grade, middle and high school. Then college, their marriages and, if we’ve been working outside the home as I did, retirement. Each adjustment was difficult for me at first, then good. Maybe we’ll hear/see more of you here on your lovely blog. Good luck to you.
*sigh* Oh Nici, you say it perfectly, as always. My oldest starts kindergarten on the 26th too and I too wrestled with the question of homeschooling and should we or shouldn’t we and finally just decided to take Elke’s advice (yet again) and let it work until it doesn’t work. I’m so excited for more time (when the youngest naps!) to start spinning out the projects I’ve been stewing over for months now, and yet… he grows up and out and away and leaves me in his dusty wake reaching after him. Where did all that time go? It just doesn’t seem like that long ago when I was discovering your blog and you lived not all that far away from me…
i sooo get this. baby girl is headed to kindergarten.
for years, i kept thinking of turning 40 and having all the time to start a business while the kids are at school.
i’ll keep busy, but i will watch the clock daily for the time i can walk or ride my bike over to the school to pick them up.
my guess is that i will spend a lot of time volunteering in their classrooms.
Thank you for your honesty about anticipating the next chapter! Love the pictures as always, all of the LIFE jumps out of them.
Beautifully said, beautiful pictures and one of the most beautiful parts of this country. The children are blessed with these wonderful days of summer camping,swimming and climbing. Summer is way too short ; )
I just love reading your writing! This image, this braid of change, is empowering and helpful. Please keep being honest and awesome just like this. I found your site near the beginning of my parenting journey and you have bent our trajectory, helping me find theoverlap in the Venn diagram of what I love and all my kids love: digging, thrifting, hiking, biking, climbing. North Texas needs you to visit and play in the Palo Duro canyons.
Can I do it all over again? As a child in your family?
I would love your tofu recipe! I love your blog, stories, and instagram! And Andy looks so good with his hair cut short!!!
Thank you for a your post, I know how you feel as my 3rd baby starts kimdergarden in a weeks’s time. I am a teacher and will be at the same school as her but it still feels like an end of an era. Just remember that nothing is set in stone, you can spin things around if they don’t work as well as they should. Good luck with the transition you brave mama. Beautiful pictures, as always. Karolina xx
Your beautiful words have captured motherhood and that heavy feeling in my heart due to returning to work after having the summer off with my one year old son.