After 3 weeks of traveling, I’m home again for good. I’d had big plans to document the book tour here, but instead I came face to face with the tension between documenting the things you’re doing and actually doing those things. That’s a frustrating thing: that there are only so many hours in the day. There’s no way to get more, no matter how much you need them.
So I’m very busy with writing and the writing life–but when I’m with my kids, I’m not busy at all. It’s two lives: the how-can-I-get-it-all-done writing life and the let’s-goof-around-in-the-backyard mama life.
It was my daughter’s sixth birthday last week, and the best present she got was an old desk of my sister’s that was in my mom’s garage. We painted it firetruck red and I put on little pink hearts. Now all we need is drawer-pulls.
We also made stepping-stone handprints this weekend:
And built a fort for imaginary snakes:
The book tour was dreamy. But it’s so unbelievably good to be home.