We have a neighbor with a little boy almost exactly Asher's age. I'm really excited about this, both because I like our neighbor and because the older Asher gets, the more having a friend around the corner will mean to him (and me). Yesterday was the first time the boys played together, and all went well. His mom was asking what I enjoy doing besides having, teaching, or raising babies, and I was embarrassed by how many of my sentences began with, "Well, I used to ..." and "I did ..." The truth is that in this moment, 35 weeks pregnant, and 18 months into motherhood, I don't do much that doesn't involve a baby.

Then this morning I read a poem that I love and haven't heard in a while. I saw a picture that reminded me of springtime and longing. And in a rare quiet hour on a Saturday morning, I remembered how it feels to be stirred by beauty. I'm still that person, too. My mind is consumed by the tyranny of the urgent, but this is only for a season. I will think and read and do all of the things I used to love again. It felt good to remember that, that I am a whole person, not just someone's mom.

I have chosen to stay at home because I am a terrible multi-tasker. Whatever I am doing in the moment is what consumes me. It's a blessing - I don't have many regrets, and I'm not one to hold a grudge because of it - but it also means that I forget how temporary every season is, how quickly we move forward and do new things. I won't always have babies, nor will I always be consumed by them. My hope is that I will enjoy this moment completely, so that when it is over, I will not spend the future wishing I could go back. I want to do the very best in this season that I can, and when I have boys, not babies, I want to enjoy that season, too. And when I come back to the season where every Saturday morning is quiet, I want to sit on a porch and read poetry or hike and be who I am, apart from my children, once again.

Thanks be to God, for seasons and for beauty in them all.