Sometimes we slow down, and I have a chance to notice the moments that are as I pictured them. Before we left home to spend a year in this trailer. Before we pulled the kids out of school and yanked them away from their friends and the only community they know. Before we sold our house and decided not to have a place to come back to.

Sometimes I notice. Right now I’m sitting outside in early November, on a warm Arizona evening. We are just outside Saguaro National Park. One child sits next to me and the other is swinging his baseball bat a few yards away. The sun is behind the hills now and we’re sitting in the twilight. The frogs and crickets are beginning their nightly symphony and I know the coyote I saw wandering around the campground yesterday is out here hunting.

In my mind, I thought the kids would have a chance to be wild and free, and that has not been the case by a long shot. I still hope to be able to create that for them.

Things have been hard. Very hard.

I want to acknowledge the moments when it doesn’t feel hard. Right now feels like I hoped it would feel. It feels calm and fulfilling and adventurous all together.