This is a house that loves summer.  Between soccer games, farm share pick ups, and trips down the street to the lake, there’s a lot to love.  It’s also a time where we try to slow things down a bit and really soak up our time together, since the rest of our year tends to run at a rather phrenetic pace.

But this summer it’s a little different.  Owen’s about to start kindergarten.  I’m writing more than ever, and a solid year of dedicated freelance work has finally started to blossom into a sustainable endeavor.  I’m also even more dedicated to teaching and finding that the more I write the better I teach and the better I teach the more I write.  Kelly has jumped from one project to the next with no end in sight.  And to top it all off, I’m pregnant.  Yup.  Preggos.  Like I hinted at earlier, stability, at least in this household, is overrated.

I’m actually quite pregnant.  Five months pregnant to be exact.  There are many reasons why I haven’t blogged about it yet, some personal and some professional.  Having a lot of balls in the air means one needs to be judicious with the amount of information one puts out there, and, I’ve had a couple of quick and harsh lessons about what it means to put your personal life on display via blogging. So with this topic I’ve played it particularly close.  Lesson learned.

And to be honest, I spent the greater part of the spring just adjusting to the idea.  I haven’t been shy about my anxieties surrounding having another child, and I’m not going to pretend they’ve all gone away.  But I can say, finally, that I’m pretty overjoyed at the prospect of having a baby.  My life, as hectic as it is, is solid.  After two years of nothing but uncertainty I’ve finally learned to let it go.  I’ve finally found some faith.  These are bold proclamations coming from someone who has spent the better part of her existence micromanaging just about every element of her personal and professional life, not to mention the lives of others.  And they are not empty statements.

Which maybe explains why this summer I’m not stressed at the pace, even if it hardly feels like summer vacation.  I’m loving my days home with Owen, his soccer games, our weekly trips to the farm, and watching him prepare for little boydom.  I’m bursting with pride at the work Kelly’s doing and the accomplishments he’s had, even if it takes him away from our family for weeks at a time.  And I’m laughing off the hate mail from my writing and relishing in the little bit of success I’ve carved out for myself–all the while thinking what a most excellent time to bring another screwball into this mix.