I went to the Target yesterday to buy a new car seat. I’ve been meaning to replace the one we have, and finally got around to doing so. As I was browsing the selection of various convertible booster seats, I was reminded of the last time I was shopping the the Target for a car seat.

Exactly five years ago.

Roux had spent eight full days in the NICU, and was unable to pass the oxygen saturation test. He was barely over four pounds, and the weight requirement for the seat we had purchased during pregnancy had a five pound minimum. I was so frustrated, and sat up half the night frantically searching for a car seat that accommodated a premature infant.

I came upon a Graco seat, I can’t remember the model, but I remember that it was one of the least expensive options, but the only one that would fit our four pound baby. We were at the Target the minute it opened buying that car seat.

Roux passed the oxygen test, and a few hours later, sat in the car for the very first time snug as a bug in his brand new Graco car seat.

Today, he sat in a different, brand new Graco car seat. This will probably be the last car seat he needs.

His first and his last, like bookends.

The multitudes these five years have contained. I cannot begin to form into sentences what this time has meant, what has been gained and lost, all the many different experiences that have been wrapped up in the five times this planet has circled the sun between that day and this.

A lifetime.

His lifetime.

But also, our lifetime. The lifetime of this family.

Five years ago today was the first time all five of us were in a room together. That moment will forever be one of the most golden tiles in the mosaic of my memory.

So much has changed since then.


I was tidying up around my house yesterday, a typical Sunday activity. Earlier in the week, I had purchased a wall calendar for my daughter. It had come inside a protective envelope of sorts, made of a linen cardstock. The envelope featured an enlarged image from the calendar, and Jade had put it with the recycling. It caught my eye as I gathered the piles to take to take out to our trash bins.

In the span of about five minutes, I had turned the sturdy illustration into the front and back cover of a small paper notebook, which I had stitched blank pages into with a bit of scrap pearled cotton, much to the delight of my little big girl.

For as long as I can remember, I have had an affinity toward making things with my hands. I taught myself how to cross stitch when I was seven years old by requesting supples and a book of patterns for Christmas and taking it from there. A self-guided chef, I prefer to make as much as I can from scratch. Tonight’s dinner included homemade salad dressing, garlic honey butter, and soup made with the stock I’ve been simmering since yesterday. (The honey came from my son’s beehive!) One of my goals for this year is to learn to make my own clothing by attempting to create one new garment a month. Last month, I made a pair of pants which I have worn at least twice a week since snipping the last threads from my sewing machine.

I’m insanely fortunate that my day-job is centered around working with my hands, and inspiring young children to work with theirs. When I became the full-time Handwork teacher, a part of me was worried that because I’d be working on so many school-related projects throughout the year, I would not have enough time or energy to devote to my own personal projects. In reality, the opposite is true. I have been more prolific in the eight months since assuming this new position than I have in years.

Earlier today, as I was preparing for my first class of the day – soft sculpture sewing with sixth grade students – it occurred to me that maybe this is what it feels like to have a career. Not just a job, or work, but a profession which is also a passion. It’s a sweet, sweet gig and I’m loving every single second.


I just learned that there is a very good chance all the writing I have accumulated online since 2011 is no longer accessible.  There is a huge sinking feeling in my gut.  So many memories, so many words. 

Fingers crossed those archives can be recovered.


At least half a dozen times a day, I think to myself this is something I should write about.

And then?  When the blank screen is in front of me?  I can’t think of anything.

Crickets, I tell you.  Chirp, chirp.

Alas, this is precisely the predicament I am trying to work through – to somehow make writing a daily ritual.  There have been other instances where I have attempted this very thing, and while I might manage to be committed for a period of time, the practice never seems to stick.

This is a theme with most things in my life, ahem.  I’m very good at starting projects, and not so good at completing them.  This isn’t always the case, but it happens more frequently than I care to admit.  I’d like to think that consistency is something that can be cultivated, and that success in one area can evolve into success in other areas when it comes to nurturing better habits.  Here’s hoping, anyway.

One thing I have managed to do every single day in 2019 (so far!) is to shoot little video clips.  My goal is to have at least one second of footage per day which I will mash into a video scrapbook for the year.  There is a fantastic app that makes the process so easy, and I am absolutely loving the way this little project is coming together.  Full disclosure, this is my third attempt and I’m further along than ever before.

Progress, not perfection.  (Wise words from a gal I admire, someone who’s super good at setting goals and even better at documenting her journey.)

I bought a domain today.  Let’s go.


I’ve  been knitting a lot lately, I notice I like to keep my fingers especially occupied when my brain is overcrowded.  Luckily, knitting is part of my job, so I call it research.

Also, I spent more than ninety minutes in traffic today and if nothing else it has further cemented my decision to reclaim myself as a commuter cyclist.  Those were the days.


The busy train came rumbling through town these past few days and I was powerless to stop it, the kind of busy where it’s all go go go without a single moment to stop and think, let alone sit and type.  I wasn’t even just ignoring this little writing project, I was ignoring my computer altogether.

However.  The point of this whole thing was to try and write daily.  As in, everyday. So.

One week from today, my Huckleberry will celebrate five trips around the sun!  (I’m not crying, you’re crying.)


You’d think after yesterday’s stunning display of writer’s block, that I’d learn my lesson.  Waiting until the tail end of the day to attempt approaching a blank screen is positively futile.  Because after the morning school rush, a full schedule of teaching + meetings, facilitating extra curricular activities, dinner time, and bed time, I can barely summon the capacity to compose a coherent thought, let alone a well crafted sentence.

It’s almost 10 PM.  I’m currently listening to my eldest read an Amelia Bedelia story to his younger siblings.  He does all these silly voices, and it always makes the littlest one laugh.  Jade is off before the sun tomorrow morning to compete in the Medieval Games, an annual event for Southern California Waldorf Sixth Graders.  Tomorrow night is Emet’s first Mock Trial competition, so he and I are looking at a late night of polishing cross-examination questions.  And even though I’m pretty much delirious from exhaustion, I know that these are some of the days I never want to forget.


By far the highlight of the Super Bowl this afternoon – other than spending it with our dear friends with whom we always have a fabulous time – was Roux’s commentary.

A few favorites:

“Why do they keep pushing each other?”

“When can we watch baseball?”

“Go Dodgers!”

Some other things I loved this week:

Nightly screenings of Game of Thrones via our HBO subscription from Amazon.

Multiple belly laughs courtesy of Catherine O’Hara’s riotous portrayal of Moira Rose on Schitt’s Creek. (Stream it on Netflix!)

Homemade frozen cheesecake bites, amen.

Bonding with Emet.

Car ride chats with Jade, my one and only daughter.

My first ever coordinating set of everyday undergarments (this + this).  Heavenly.