Before I moved away from Arkansas, I challenged myself to drive down roads I’d never driven down in order to get to familiar destinations. I wasn’t expecting to find anything extraordinary down these unknown roads, I just hadn’t had the opportunity to drive down them before, and having lived in the same town for 22 years I figured it was high time I at least checked out all the roads I hadn’t taken.
While Hot Springs, AR is by no means a metropolis, there was also no way for me to meet the personal quota I’d set for myself. There were just too many inlets, cul-de-sacs, and gravel paths in our little mountain town. I left Hot Springs having not taken every road but feeling satisfied that I had tried, which was a feat in itself. The perfectionistic achiever in me took a backseat and I allowed myself to not fully accomplish the task and enjoyed the new roads I was able to explore before leaving. It did give me the opportunity to live in the restful feeling of knowing what it had been like to grow up in one place and have a home.
Driving around this town as a teenager had given me my first sense of the freedom that comes with being a young adult. I still have vivid memories of riding shotgun in my friend’s red Jeep, past Bathhouse Row in the historic district, our windows rolled down and arms hanging out while we listened to the dulcet sounds of Iron and Wine. We were just weeks away from graduating. Nothing spectacular had happened that day. Maybe we had gone on a hike. Maybe we had wandered around downtown. Maybe we were driving around because we were 18 and about to leave and never really return. That day was not extraordinary, but I remember it as sharply as if it were yesterday.
Obviously the nonchalance of my teenage years have all but passed. There are few moments that I get to myself that feel “free and easy”. But that’s ok. Having less of them has sharpened my senses so that when they do come, I can spot them from a mile away.
…
I’m less footloose and fancy free these days. I have to admit that I love a routine that gives shape to our days. For someone who has a difficult time with focus and tends to procrastinate, routines ground me. But recently my mind and body has needed a shift in routine and I have been astounded at the difference it’s made.
I recently made the choice to drop something from our weekly rhythm that at one point felt good and necessary. It’s not something I wanted to drop and I hope to pick it back up again someday, but it has allowed some beautiful space to be created for myself and Sam. On what was once a packed morning has now allowed for time spent just the two of us, doing things we both love.
On one such morning Sam and I were meandering through a favorite park when we came across a greenhouse that was open to the public. We went inside and Sam marveled at a manmade fountain with multiple waterfalls while I was overcome with the numerous varieties of orchids hanging from lichen covered baskets on the wall. We wandered around, going from room to room, studying cacti, monsteras, smelling unknown flowers, and listening to the water from the fountain fill the light filled space. Afterward Sam ran around the outdoor gardens as park workers sprayed the ground, prepping it for summer planting. We didn’t spend a lot of time talking, but there was a lot that was said. Sam grabbed my hand of his own accord multiple times and I could feel my entire being relax. These moments with him are fleeting. So much of his early years had been full of pain and noise and I have often been jealous of mothers who laugh and snuggle up to children with easier dispositions more times than I’d like to say. But today wasn’t full of struggle. And had I not shifted a routine that I thought was good and necessary, I wouldn’t have had it.
Yesterday we had the first of what I hope are many lunch picnic dates. I spread a blanket out in the front yard under our weeping willow and Sam and I munched leftovers. He was pretty set on making the ground underneath us as smooth as possible and I had to comfort him with the harsh reality that sometimes the ground is bumpy, and that’s ok. We made due. He ran around barefoot and threw the ball for our dog. That same dog would later sneak off with half his sandwich. Lessons were learned, but that wouldn’t keep us from doing the same thing again the next day. I didn’t once check my phone, Sam didn’t ask to watch a show, and we weren’t in a rush to do the next thing. The ground was bumpy and Sam was late for his nap and neither of those things mattered.
The mornings have been a real struggle for us all. Sam wakes up like a shot and immediately starts running around the house, seeking sensory input in every way he can find it. Cortisol levels naturally peak at around 8am so by the time I get breakfast on the table Sam is refusing to touch it and we’re all in a state of dysregulation. On Thursdays, our mornings are particularly early and Sam was once again refusing breakfast. I looked at David and said “we need to pivot.” The rule is no screens at breakfast. I hate starting the day with a screen and it usually hurts more than it helps. That said, we had pulled out all the stops and were out of ideas. I pulled up an episode of Bluey and Sam sat down and proceeded to eat his entire breakfast. He dressed and we headed out the door and no one raised their voices at one another once. Sam looked at me while he climbed into the car for our early appointment and said, “It’s a beautiful day mom” and I agreed. We had thrown the rule book out and did the thing that the good parents of the world crinkle their noses at, but you know what? We had a good morning and it was a beautiful day–and Sam noticed.
My perspective on things continues to shift. David has stopped applying for jobs and is pushing on becoming fully self employed. This scared me at first, but then I watched as he landed his first and second clients. He would break for lunch and tell me all of the things he’s learning on client relationships and how he’s wanting to structure different offerings. There’s a light behind his eyes that I haven’t seen in the almost 12 years of our marriage. He’s excited. And now, so am I.
Our life is shifting and I think that if my perspective doesn’t shift with it, I’ll find myself bitter and disappointed. Right now, the right thing to do doesn’t always feel right. It would be more secure for David to find a nine to five with a solid insurance plan. It would be good for me to pick up the things I dropped from our weekly routine. It would be ideal if Sam didn’t watch Bluey at breakfast (well, maybe–have you seen Bluey?!). But all of these shifts have led to life for us. I can’t argue with life.
The core memories I made from doing nothing as a teenager are some of my most treasured memories. They are moments when I was connected to my people. I was wiser than I realized then, and I forgot it in the midst of trying to be an adult. Now, I’m looking for more ways to loosen my grip and explore. Maybe I need to say screw it to morning screen time occasionally. Maybe I need to say no to good things if they overwhelm me. Maybe I need more time with my son in a garden listening to him as he asks me questions about different types of leaves. Maybe he’s teaching me who he is and what he needs by taking my hand in these unhurried moments.
I know there are folks who don’t like our parenting style. I know that in certain circles we create more questions than we do answers. Even in our own household, we aren’t doing the things we thought we would or should be doing, but we are doing what works. And for now, that feels like enough.
That feels like life.
Always,
Emily
P.S. My newest cocktail of choice is a Gin and Jam and it has definitely helped make my life go a little slower and taste a little sweeter. Let me know if you try it (recipe below):
Gin & Jam
2 oz. gin of choice
1+ TBSP. jam of choice from your refrigerator (apricot is my current favorite)
a dash or two of lemon zest
1 oz. lemon juice
Combine ingredients and shake vigorously with ice. Strain and serve over crushed or cubed ice. If it doesn’t taste like Springtime, add more of everything until it does ;)
I love that you’re feeling the freedom to finding what works even if it’s day by day. cheering you on, emily.