Dinners on the back porch. That feeling of expansion that comes with the warmer months, when home is no longer limited to four closed-off walls — it’s the porch, the neighborhood park, the botanical garden, the river. Yours to savor.
Homemade banana bread for breakfast.
Sundress weather, the answer to all my late-pregnancy wardrobe prayers.
Knobby baby parts gliding around under my skin like a sea monster, poking out and retracting, a constant reminder that she’s healthy and growing, something I take for granted.
Long, cathartic talks with sisters. The bonding over shared experiences that holds you together after years of annoying the heck out of each other.
A beautiful new writing desk in the bay window of our living room where I can feel the breeze and look outside while I work. A small thing that makes such a difference in how our apartment and my work day feels.
A clean, quiet place to live. A loving husband. Whole days to fill however I want. Enough to get by. Things I overlook now that were, at one time, all I ever wanted.