a day off

giving myself a brief pause to enjoy time with family

Ironic that I’m announcing that there will be no newsletter through a newsletter, though I suppose what I really mean when I say I’m taking a day off is that I’m giving myself a break from hustling to finish a longer, more involved post I’ve been chipping away at that I had planned for today. Alas, I didn’t get as much done as I had hoped before I left, and instead of spending my brief time at home in front of my computer, I am opting to spend it doing other things. Things that fill my cup, like: picking fresh raspberries from the garden, reading a whole book in one weekend, spending time with my sisters who live terribly far away, lounging by the pool, snuggling with my baby, sipping coffee on the porch while my daughter runs barefoot through the grass in a princess dress, eating fresh corn on the cob, letting watermelon juice drip down my chin, making potato salad with ingredients entirely picked from our garden that morning, cannonballs off the diving board.

My precious morning time here has been wiped out by the necessity of co-sleeping and the corresponding fear that any movement I make will wake her out of necessary slumber - except this morning, in which I managed to sneak out in order to write while the birds chip and the rooster crows and the morning sun washes the trees in gold.¹ Naps have been skipped for the last four days, leading to evening meltdowns the size of which we perviously had not been familiar. The added help of my family is great - when she’s in a good mood - but for better or worse, the challenging moments always fall on mom’s shoulders, and her incessant tantrums over her new Elsa dress and refusal to drift calmly to sleep have been taxing, despite the relaxing nature of the day otherwise. There really is no such thing as break, is there? I am practicing letting go of the consternation I feel over it all, knowing that in a few short hours we will be back in our regular routine and I’ll miss the all night snuggles.

So all that is to say, this is my version of a day off. The longer newsletter I had planned for today will arrive in your inboxes another time, and instead of scrambling to edit I’ll enjoy my final hours here barefoot in the grass. Or poolside with a book. Or snuggling with my baby on the porch. Or laughing with my sisters. Or lounging on a floatie.

sunglasses: elisa johnson, dress: ralph lauren via rent the runway, borrowed from my sister. I am very tempted to purchase it, I ended up loving it so much

made alison roman's brown butter potato salad entirely from my dad's garden

home grown zucchini nearly the size of my toddler

snuggles, even in the pool

i mean, can you even?

from where i am writing this newsletter

there is a world in which i summer somewhere rural, spending days lounging by the pool, cooking home grown food entirely in swimsuits and big button ups.

See you in a few days…

xx

jen

1. the irony being that as I typed that sentence, she cried out for me