It's below zero outside.
Yesterday was even colder.
So we're not going anywhere if we can help it.
The sun pours into our living room, sometimes so bright that
we have to squint in order to see.
Last week I had a surreal day,
spent at home with my oldest (age 22)
and my youngest (age 7 months).
I can't say Isaac was as helpful with the baby as his sisters are.
He was busy finishing the 10th book on his reading list..
Having him here reminded me of when he was a baby,
and I was alone with him for days on end.
Winter, and babies, and isolation.
I wish I had happier memories of those years.
I wish I could tell my 24-year-old self
that babies grow up terribly fast.
That this same house which held tears of loneliness and frustration
would someday hold joy unspeakable.
That life would get harder,
and yet somehow, better.